The Bane of Heaven
by Kiwifan7
Summary: A/U. Immediately following the battle with Aizen, Ichigo's life takes a drastic turn. Ancient grudges and new worlds shape the landscape of his future, a future even more dangerous than his past.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: An idea that simply would not leave me alone! A different direction from the Bleach/DxD crossovers that I've seen, I just really loved the possibilities that this brings.**

 **For any who have read my work before, you know the drill: Read, review, but most of all, enjoy!**

 **XXXXXX**

An unending wave of heat bore down on Ichigo as he wearily shuffled across the floor of some random ravine. The sandy expanse felt like a furnace, and the walls of the chasm only seemed to trap the heat.

Looking up, he had to shield his eyes from the blinding desert sun that was directly above him. As he pressed on, he looked over his shoulder yet again, keeping watch for the threat that had plagued him for days.

He could barely remember the days leading up to the present. A blur of pain, fear, and exhaustion, Ichigo had barely made it through the last week with his sanity, much less his life. Every time that he settled enough to catch his breath, he would catch glimpses of familiar black robes, forcing him to move once more.

Stumbling, he was barely able to catch himself on the wall of the ravine. Ichigo had to gasp for breath as he held onto the last shreds of his energy, yet the struggle was getting more difficult with every step. Pain seemed to define his very existence, at the moment, and the panic in his mind refused to settle.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. How had, in one instant, so many things had gone wrong?

Looking down to the shimmering orb that was so painfully lodged in his chest, he was thrust back into the memory of what had triggered his current predicament.

 _Blinking quickly, Ichigo opened his eyes to the blinding daylight. What had just happened? What could possibly explain why he was on his back, on the ground, and the fact that his body hurt like hell?_

 _He remembered using the Final Getsuga Tensho, Aizen falling, a white substance beginning to cover him, and then_ _…_ _a bright purple light, then_ _…_ _nothing._

 _Slowly coming to his feet, he looked up to see that dust was still settling across the devastated plain. Turning, Ichigo's breath caught in his throat as he witnessed the seal that now entombed Sosuke Aizen. It was done, finally over. The battle, the war…his life as a shinigami._

 _The revelation was far from comforting, in fact pain was the one thing he was absolutely certain of at the moment. His body hurt, from his feet, to his burning chest, to his aching head. Still, it was surely a small price to pay for what he had saved._

 _He had made the decision, willingly sacrificing his powers—parts of his soul—to stop a man with dreams of godhood. That was a good thing, wasn't it? It wasn't so easy to tell, now. The choice had been simple, almost scarily so. A million souls were in danger, and he alone could save them. Was there ever really a choice?_

 _A choice. The idea of a choice burned in his mind. Of course there was no choice. He was the only one who could stop Aizen, so he had to give up his mentor, and even that hollow asshole had been sacrificed in his final attack._

 _Shaking his head, Ichigo started at the sound of wooden clogs. Turning, he came face to face with a grim Kisuke Urahara. He never liked to see this look on the face of his former teacher. Nothing good ever came from those looks, and Ichigo felt immediate dread at whatever was about to come out of the shopkeeper's mouth._

 _Unable to wait, he broke the silence first._

" _What now, Kisuke?" he asked, his stress evident in his tone. What could bring that look?! His mentor was never openly stressed about anything, even when face to face with Aizen, who so far outclassed him in terms of raw power, so what in the hell could it mean?! His mind raced with possibilities._

 _Zangetsu had told him that his shinigami powers would be gone, and he could feel them rapidly declining. Did his words mean that the entire spiritual world would be lost to him? Were there even worse consequences that he didn't know about? A widening of the eyes, as well as a long sigh from the older shinigami made him wary of the answer._

" _Ichigo, I think the answer has already presented itself. Not to belabor the obvious, but the ramifications are definitely something to worry about," he answered, looking down to Ichigo's chest._

 _Ichigo, who had followed his gaze, blanched at the sight that greeted him. Burning painfully in the center of his chest was a glistening purple orb. Each breath seemed to elicit a throb from the orb, and his veins seemed to be alight with a burning sensation, however his eyes quickly widened in shock._

 _As he watched in horror, his human flesh seemed to actually materialize . The agony of it quickly told him that his mortal body was being fused with his spiritual one—while containing the hogyoku. His breath caught in his throat as his mind tried to catch up to the sensations that his body felt._

 _Before he could speak, Urahara continued, "It's pretty clear that the hogyoku chose you. Why, I could not begin to tell you, nor could I tell you why your mortal body is merging with your spiritual form."_

" _Kisuke…what…what the hell am I supposed to do with this?" Ichigo interrupted. Kisuke was right, of course: the ramifications for possessing the hogyoku were nearly unthinkable. Nearly. Unfortunately, thoughts of what had just finished were in the forefront of his mind._

" _We just fought a damn war to stop this thing, and now it's in my chest?! Not only that, but it's pulled my human body along for the ride?! I go from a sacrificial offering to having a death sentence, just because of your little experiment?"_

 _The elder shinigami flinched at the accusation. "Ichigo, I truly am sorry. Believe me when I say that I will do everything I can to fix this, but please also understand that right now—we need to focus. I mean, really focus."_

 _Reaching into his coat, Urahara pulled out a small leather pouch. As he tossed it to Ichigo, he began to speak in earnest. "I hate to say this, but you're going to have to run. I don't think that either of us are naive enough to believe that the head captain will let this pass._

 _If I can offer some advice: Run far, run often. I don't know how well you'll be able to keep yourself concealed, but there is a band in there that is a seal. Try it out, but now that the hogyoku has been fully awakened—not to mention a likely massive absorption of the reiatsu that you unleashed with your final attack—it's probably worthless._

 _Still, there is plenty of money in there to keep you mobile, and a communication device. Do not use this except in the most dire of circumstances. It releases a lot of spiritual pressure, and will let any spiritually aware beings in the area know exactly where you are."_

 _Ichigo stood in stunned silence. Though he had come to the same conclusion, his need to run, it was still shocking to hear the true gravity of his situation. Basically, he was a spiritual beacon, shining brightly for all who wanted to kill him. On top of that, where was he supposed to run?_

 _As if sensing his thoughts, Kisuke spoke again as he began to draw several small pieces of metal from his coat. "Start somewhere remote. Find out what exactly the hogyoku has in mind, as well as how your reiatsu is actually working, then you can go to spiritually rich places. Yeah, there will be shinigami there, but the excess reiatsu can provide you with at least a little anonymity."_

 _Watching as the scientist erected a small…something…Ichigo wondered how this was actually going to work. "What is that, and how am I supposed to actually get away from here? I can barely stand, much less run."_

" _That's what this is for," Urahara mumbled as he focused on something that looked like a remote. However, their attention was soon drawn to the sound of multiple 'swish' sounds._

" _Ichigo Kurosaki, are you—" a gravelly voice cut off as Ichigo turned to face the newly arrived shinigami. Seeing that he was faced with large group of soul reapers, led by the now-glaring head captain, he began to slowly back away. He heard a soft click, and an even softer whirring noise behind him, but he couldn't take his eyes off of the menacing group in front of him._

" _What have you done, boy?" the advancing soutaichou growled. Seeing his remaining hand reaching down towards the hilt of his blade, Ichigo tried to stall._

" _I don't know! I beat Aizen, then woke up with this thing in my—seriously? You're seriously going to do that?" he asked as he saw the head captain remove his sword from its sheath._

 _The answer was an increase in heat in the area. Before anyone else could speak, Kisuke grabbed Ichigo by the shoulders and roughly pulled him around to face his setup which was…a device to make a garganta? All he could see was a small black rip in the atmosphere above the metal display._

 _He had no time to ask, as the hands that were gripping his shoulders pressed against his chest. "Do not forget what I told you. I set a destination that should be hard to find, but you'll need to move quickly. Good luck, Ichigo."_

 _With those words, the hands against his chest pushed him into the garganta, which instantly sealed behind him._

Pushing himself off of the side of the ravine, Ichigo continued to stagger along. That little stunt of Kisuke's had dumped him out in Greece, of all places. While he appreciated the quick getaway, being dropped onto a grassy riverbank surrounded by miles and miles of desert was not exactly what he had been expecting.

Ichigo had thought that he'd have at least a day's head start on the shinigami, but the orb in his chest was occasionally pulsing with large amounts of reiatsu, and like Kisuke had said, it had proved to be a spiritual beacon. The band that he found in the pouch had helped to control it, yet he took it off almost instantly, as it made his chest burn as if on fire and sapped his energy to dangerous levels.

He also quickly discovered that the physical and mental strain that his situation—not to mention the orb—put on him was immense. The stress of someone trying to kill him wasn't bothering him as much as it should, but the sleep deprivation, and the…voice…were.

The struggle to convince himself that he wasn't going insane had become harder with each passing hour. From the moment he had first been pushed into the garganta, he had heard a soft whispering in his mind. Though there were no words that he could discern, the whispers ebbed and flowed with the activity of the hogyoku, which was chaotic at best.

Luckily, he was able to push the noise to the back of his mind and focus on moving. This proved fortunate, as within an hour of wandering the village that was near his landing site, he felt a small burst of spiritual pressure and saw a flash of black.

That had been the start of his flight into the desert. Ichigo knew that he was in no shape to fight anyone, much less an armed shinigami, and the open expanse was the least likely spot to be followed. However, he had begun to rethink his strategy within a day. The searing heat, along with the lack of sleep and constant movement, had drained every ounce of energy that he had.

The crazy shopkeeper had been prepared for this possibility, it seemed, as within the small pouch he had received, there had been pellets that seemed to be food of some sort. Whatever they were, they kept him alive. Hungry, and thirsty as hell, but alive.

' _But_ _'_ _,_ Ichigo realized as he stumbled on a rock, bringing him to a knee. But there was only one pellet left, but he had no idea where he was—or where he was going—and if what he had seen and felt were accurate, there were at least four shinigami within a day's reach of him.

' _Looks like it was all for nothing in the end,'_ he thought bitterly, glancing down at the pulsating orb in his chest and drowning out the increasing murmurs in his mind. He didn't blame Kisuke, hell, the man had done as much as he could to help Ichigo throughout his spiritual life.

Still, the man's greatest creation was also going to be the death of him, whether by annoyance or by giving up his location.

' **Move.'**

The whisper was so soft that he almost missed it.

' **Move.'**

Again, it came. Barely audible, but the voice that spoke was laced with an authority, a confidence Ichigo couldn't deny. Almost subconsciously, Ichigo began to move. He didn't know where he was finding the energy, but his body was responding.

On the edges of his consciousness, he felt a sharp prick of pressure. He froze for a second, panic setting in. They were close, far closer than he had imagined. If he can feel them, really _feel_ the shinigami that are following him, then they were too close.

' _Damn it, no! I'm not ready for this! I didn't sacrifice my power, my soul just to be cut down in the middle of some forsaken desert. It can't end like this!'_

' **Move.'**

The voice that had been no more than a whisper before, now burned with intensity and the orb in his chest shuddered. Needing no further prompting, Ichigo pushed himself to move, running almost purely on force of will.

Left, right, left, right. Ichigo kept his mind on the rhythm of his feet pounding the ground as he came the closest to running that he could.

' _Damn it, move!'_

His legs were slowing as his energy waned. Willpower was only getting him so far, no matter how much the voice in his mind was urging him to continue moving. Left, right, left…right…left…

Catching his foot on yet another stone, Ichigo crashed roughly to the ground. He had nothing left. He barely had enough energy to roll over, however he got a sharp surge of adrenalin as he heard multiple soft _swishes,_ followed by the sounds of metal scraping. Turning, he looked to see the arrival of four shinigami.

Four masked, _armed_ shinigami, who immediately began to fan out around his position.

Panicking, Ichigo used the energy from his panic to finally get himself to his feet. Looking around, he realized that he was well and truly trapped. The walls of the ravine towered over him, not that he could climb them, anyway.

All that he could do was walk backwards, not allowing them to get behind him. Though, if they used flash step, they could easily surround him. They must still think that he was dangerous. Shuffling away from the group that was here to kill him, he did the only thing he could to stall them.

"So I save your asses from one of your own, and you come to kill me?"

The pause he expected from them never came. Continuing to fan out, one voice called out, "You took the hogyoku, the weapon that spawned the most massive war in a millennia. What exactly did you expect?"

Ichigo sighed. He figured that they would say something like that, and it wore on his mind. He was tired. Tired of running. Tired of worrying. Tired of getting the short end of the stick. He couldn't give up, though. He wanted to. He had never wanted something so much in his life. It would mean peace, rest, quiet.

But he couldn't. He cursed his fatal flaw again and again, as he knew that he could never 'call it quits'. He would never walk into his own death willingly, it just wasn't possible.

' **Just keep moving.'**

The whisper in his mind was back. _'Just great. I'll die while going insane. Isn't that just lovely?'_

' **What would be lovely is you paying attention to your surroundings.'**

 _Okay_ , Ichigo paused. That was disturbing. Was his mind really answering…his mind? It wasn't _that_ hot out here, was it? Shaking his head, Ichigo continued his backwards walk, his eyes darting around to not only track the shinigami, but to the ravine around him as he hoped for—something.

A sigh echoed in his mind. **'To help your state of attention, I will let you know that your sanity is still in tact. Did you truly think me to be an inanimate object?'**

Clarity dawned with the force of a wrecking ball. Hogyoku. The freaking hogyoku was—sentient. _'You know what? That's not even the weirdest thing that I've ever encountered. Still…Why in the hell did you get me into this mess?!'_

Ichigo could not believe that he was having this conversation. He was demanding answers from an orb that granted the desires of those around it, or something like that, while backing away from his would-be killers.

' **When I finally awakened, thanks to your massive release of reiatsu, I made the only choice that I could. You were the only one who could bear me, as I refused to be bound to Sosuke Aizen a moment longer. I am sorry that it came at such a cost, but all is not lost. We are inexorably tied together, and together we will find a way out of this. Be wary not only of your immediate threat, however. This place makes me…uneasy.'**

Ichigo started at the answer. The hogyoku's voice was strong, deep, yet calm. As he briefly considered those words, he knew that he would have done the same, in that position. Shaking his head, he thought earnestly, _'But you're the freaking hogyoku! Can't you transport us like you did for Aizen in our battle?! Why do I have to wa'—"_ Ahhhhh!"

His thoughts were halted as the ground beneath him disappeared. Direction lost all meaning as Ichigo felt himself striking the ground multiple, painful times. After what seemed like ages, he finally landed onto a hard, flat surface.

Groaning in pain, Ichigo could barely turn his head. His entire existence hurt. Bones felt broken, blood was flowing, and he would not be surprised if he had a concussion. Opening his eyes, he looked up to see that he had fallen down a massive flight of stairs. So high, in fact, that he had all but lost sight of the daylight.

' **Get up.'** Hogyoku urged, allowing a small pulse of energy to flow into it's new host.

Crawling to his knees, Ichigo gasped for breath as he looked around. It seemed that whatever these stairs had led to had caved in quite some time ago. Boulders larger than himself blocked the entrance to some kind of underground…thing…yet the thick layer of dust remained undisturbed.

"There's no way," he muttered aloud to himself, wincing at the pain simply speaking caused. However, his head snapped to the side as he heard the sandy scuffs that announced his attackers descent. Searching the stones with what little light he had, he was frustrated with no options.

' **Much of my energy is not yet compatible with your body, so I was hoping to save this for later. There is no time for questions, so simply do what I tell you, and I will explain when possible. Place your hands on the boulders in front of you.'**

Having neither the energy nor desire to argue, he placed his hands on the massive rocks. Feeling a shudder in the hogyoku, Ichigo felt as if he were an observer in his own body as a torrential wave of reiatsu flashed from his hands and demolished not only the rocks in front of him, but for yards ahead of him.

In spite of the massive drain that he felt, as well as the increasingly flaring torture that was his body, Ichigo pressed onwards. Hoping that the attack would not only open the way forward, but give those following a reason for pause, he moved as quickly as possible into what turned out to be a large cave.

With the light given off by the hogyoku being his only source, Ichigo moved slower than he would have preferred, stumbling often on fallen rocks and debris. He didn't know how he was still moving, but he attributed it to Hogyoku's interference.

When he finally paused to gather his bearings, he came to the realization that the cave was cold, abnormally so. Deeply chilled gusts of air made his hair stand on end. Wherever he was, whatever this cave was, felt…wrong. Forbidding. He had never encountered this feeling before, and his instincts screamed in protest.

Knowing that he had no time to worry about it, Ichigo began to move again.

After a few moments of shuffling around, he heard the shinigami arrive. Knowing that the orb in his chest was a beacon as to his location, he quickly covered himself. It proved pointless, however, as the killers each cast kido spells to illuminate the room.

Staggering forward as his foot caught against something, Ichigo suddenly found himself falling up stairs. Seeing that they were not too high, he continued to pull himself forward. Inch, by agonizing inch, he dragged himself onward.

When he reached the top he collapsed, heaving, bleeding, and worn. Gazing around the room, he noticed a myriad of strange symbols and pictures on both the walls and ceilings. He also noticed that the gusts of air were stronger near him.

' **Get up,'** the hogyoku beckoned, a note of emotion in it's voice.

"I can't," Ichigo croaked, barely able to speak. His breath was coming short, and his vision was darkening. He hated to admit that this was the end. There would be no winning this time. He no longer had a hollow to take over, and if the hogyoku's voice was any indication, there would be no last minute rescue, either.

' _You've got to be kidding me. Is this really how I go out? Fate sucks.'_

Seeing four masked faces appear over his, Ichigo weakly groaned. Summoning enough strength to talk, he gasped, "At least tell Rukia to say bye to everyone for me."

After a moment of the faces looking to each other, a sigh met his request. "Yeah, kid, we can do that. Still, you know that this has to be done, so—"

Ichigo's hands gripped involuntarily as he prepared for the sword strokes that would end his life. However, a strange sound caught his attention. As his hands had closed, it seemed as if he had shuffled some gravel, which sounded like it was—falling?

His eyes snapped open as a small burst of adrenalin coursed through him. The gusts of air, as well as the falling gravel…there was a hole in the ground next to his hand! His excitement halted almost instantly, though, as it became clear the ominous feeling that filled the cave was coming through that hole.

Looking up at the swords that had been raised, he realized that he had no choice. Taking a deep breath, he forced his body to roll to the side. Coming to a stop facing the unexpectedly large opening, he once more forced himself into a roll, fully taking him over the edge.

Panic once more flooded his consciousness as the sensation of uncontrollable falling took hold. With no light, no heat, no sense of direction, and no strength to do anything about it, Ichigo tumbled further into the freezing pit.

After what could have been minutes, hours—he couldn't tell—the air became thicker. A strong smell pervaded the air around him, and Ichigo's eyes snapped open to see himself hurtling towards a rushing river.

The landing was horrendous. The bone-breaking impact of hitting the water was jarring enough, yet his body soon erupted in anguish as the water felt like acid. His every nerve all but literally on fire, Ichigo screamed impotently beneath the excruciating liquid. This only served to exacerbate the pain, as the water burned down his throat.

The pain was everything. It was elemental, it was complex. It was overwhelming, yet nuanced. Every contradiction possible was met as his senses were lost in a haze of torment.

However, with each passing second, he noticed a growth in his energy. Nowhere near enough to function normally, but he wasn't completely immobilized. Trying to gain some semblance of direction, Ichigo thrashed in the water, searching for the surface.

His search was cut short, though, as a hand gripped his shihakksho roughly and dragged him out of the water. Once his eyes had cleared, he found himself looking into the face of what seemed to be a cloaked human skull. Though the face could clearly hold no expression, he could hear the amusement in the voice that spoke in a language he had never heard before.

"What did you say?"

The being spoke again, this time with annoyance coloring it's voice. In the middle of whatever it was saying, it began speaking in Japanese. "-been so long since I have had to speak Japanese, how bothersome."

Seeing that Ichigo was understanding, the being asked, "Now just what is it that you're doing, swimming in the river Styx?"

The being paused as he stared at the weakly struggling boy in his hands. After pulling him closer, Ichigo heard a sniffing sound, along with a tightening of the grip on his robe. "A shinigami, no less? That explains you not understanding me, however...No…I smell soul reaper, but there's more. Hmmm, just what are you, boy?"

Ichigo couldn't respond. This…skeleton…was powerful. Immensely powerful, strong in a way that reminded him vaguely of when the head captain was very angry, only more so. His very aura was stifling the area.

"I do not like having to ask questions twice. Let us try something that your brain could handle. What is your name?" the being said in a tone that showed it was near the end of its patience.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," Ichigo responded. Though never one to back down from a challenge, Ichigo knew that he was at a disadvantage here. This being had him overpowered by infinitely more than when he had fought Ulquiorra while in bankai.

"Kurosaki? Kurosaki—" the being said, testing the word as if trying to recall something. Tapping his chin with a bone finger, he hummed in contemplation. "Your name, boy, why do I know your name?"

Having no answer, Ichigo silently watched as the skeleton's gaze slowly fell down to his chest. "Oho," it chuckled. "So _that's_ why I know your name. I knew that you shinigami were having trouble with some brat, but it looks as if life there was more interesting than I was aware of. I felt your little skirmish, and that admittedly impressive attack that was launched. I'm assuming by you?"

"What do you want?" Ichigo croaked from his raw throat, wary of the being who held him. The presence was making him feel sick, as if he were dying.

The skeleton face snapped back to his. "What do _I_ want? You come into my domain, dive into the river Styx, and you ask what I want? You have quite the nerve, young one. What is it that you want? Did you come here seeking invincibility? Are you soul reapers looking to challenge me?"

"I didn't come here because I wanted to! I gave up my powers, and when the hogyoku chose me as a bearer, they tried to kill me. I just ran from them, and fell into some hole, and…um…who are you?" Ichigo asked in confusion, grimacing as he knew that this question would gain him no favors.

The being holding him silently stared into his face for a long moment. Suddenly, an unfriendly chuckle rang throughout the cavern. "A hero-type, I see. I despise your kind. Noble fools, the lot of you. As far as my identity, I suppose that I could tell you. I am Hades."

Ichigo felt the blood that remained drain from his head. Even growing up in a Shinto culture, he knew who Hades was. Ruler of the Underworld, Hades was a god. A immensely powerful god. Not only that, but a cruel god who had never been known for kindness.

"It would seem that the fates hate you, boy. Cast out by the very ones you saved, even pursued to the point of death, and burdened with such a curse as not only the hogyoku—which I can sense is both killing you and keeping you alive all at once—but also the curse of the Styx. Heroes never learn, and it appears that you are no different. Unfortunately for you, Ichigo Kurosaki, life is never what you expect it to be. Regardless the circumstances, you have trespassed into my world. That's something I cannot allow to go unpunished, even for a so-called 'Death God', so I must..."

Hades paused after that, his body freezing before a ghostly chuckle rang out. "Actually, young Kurosaki, I just happen to be in a good mood today, so I will give you a chance to leave the Underworld under your own power. How so is your business, and it should be entertaining to witness. However, you are going to have to start in my…let's call it my trophy room."

Ichigo felt himself be brought closer to Hades face, now within inches of the skull face. "To make things more interesting, I have a little gift for you. I won't tell you what it is, though, but will simply watch what unfolds."

Noticing a tingling sensation in his chest where Hades held him, Ichigo tried to pull back before the entire cavern was illuminated by a large flash of light, then he could feel nothing as the world went black.

 **XXXXXX**

Hades chuckled to himself. He'd be grinning, had he any lips to smile with. Heroes were his favorite pawns to toy with. Even though this boy had been no demigod or descendent of legend, his mind had been similar to so many others.

Save the world. Protect the innocent. Blah blah blah.

However, his power was far different. Of course, the boy had claimed that he had given up his powers, and he rightly had. However, the god of the Underworld was no fool. He had been aware of this 'hogyoku' ever since the traitor shinigami's early failed experiments had sent several souls his way.

The power that now resided in that boy's chest was a wildcard in the grand scheme of things. With dragons aligning with factions, demigods attempting coups, so many factions facing off in stalemates, what would happen if someone were to introduce an unknown power?

An unknown power that could shift the very balance of power within the world.

Turning in the direction that he had sent the boy, Hades began to dissolve. If the boy was going to be given the chance to escape, it would only be appropriate for the god of the Underworld to be present.

Once he had reappeared, he waited out of sight for Ichigo to awaken and try to find a way out of Cocytus, his very own trophy room.

 **XXXXXX**

With a deep gasp, Ichigo awakened. His first realization was of cold. Bitter, biting cold that seeped into every inch of his being.

' _What did he do? Where am I now?'_ he thought, testing his limbs for movement.

Could fate be any more of a bitch? He wasn't sure. He had gone from running in the desert, to falling into the Underworld, to swimming in the river Styx, to offending the god of the Underworld—one of the most powerful beings he had ever come across.

Of course, there would only be more. Now he was in some frozen ominous body of water, which felt like an icy river, with no power and no clue on how to get out. Not only that, but this place felt more than just ominous. There was evil here.

The feeling was oppressive, coming from all sides and in different ways. There was rage. Hatred. Malice. Pain. Jealousy. Resentment and more. All poured in unending streams, weighing on his mind, tugging on his consciousness.

Looking around, he found himself up to his neck treading what looked to be ice. The concept was confusing. Though the ice itself looked completely solid, he was able to—in a crude manner—swim through it. It was uncomfortable, it was unconventional, but he was _moving_.

Ichigo couldn't fully explain why, but it felt vital to him to keep moving. Whenever he slowed, the ice felt thicker, dense as if it were closing in around him. His energy had not come close to replenishing, but whatever had happened to him in the river had apparently given him enough to keep going.

' _Going where?'_ he thought, taking in the sights around him. He was in another cavern, this one with sharp looking stalactites, tall rock formations in the middle, as well as sinister looking ridges at the edges. His breath caught though, as he saw what looked like an arm hanging over one of those edges. Next to it was a drawn face, open in a silent scream.

' _What in the—'_ Looking around, he began to notice more bodies, each in positions and expressions of agony.

His thoughts were cut off as he felt pressure building on his legs. **'Move!'** Hogyoku whispered in his mind. The voice was faint, drained, but he couldn't focus on that fact at the moment.

Ichigo didn't need to be told twice. The ice was tightening on his body, and his movement was slowing. Not sure where the energy was coming from, Ichigo continued to move, doing his best to swim towards one of the towering rock formations in the middle of the water. Perhaps he could see more from a higher position, and begin to plan a way out. If nothing else, it would provide a respite from the treacherous waters.

By the time that he reached the nearest rock formation, Ichigo felt the now-familiar fatigue setting in. Whatever energy that he had gotten from that hellish river—he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the unintended pun—was fading fast. His movements were more out of fear, than actual energy, and were getting more and more sluggish.

He couldn't die here, he wouldn't. This place creeped him out, and he couldn't get out fast enough. Everything from the feel of the water on his skin, to the ever insistent feelings that were pressing on his mind forced him onward.

Finding a small ridge, Ichigo began to pull himself out of the water. However, the moment that his body broke the surface he felt a tremendous drain on his energy. Each drip that fell back to the icy expanse below him seemed to take his very life force with it. After only a few pulls upward, he was gasping for air.

Inch by inch, his upward progress became like a vice on his chest. Every breath became shorter than the last, and his body began to seize. Onward, upward, he tried to force himself. There was nothing else he could do.

Attempting to reach yet higher, his hand slipped, leaving him dangling from the side. He had come up several feet, but was nowhere near the top. Feeling faint, he tried once more, keeping himself focused on moving to distract him from his unnaturally failing body.

Reaching again, his hand missed his target entirely. As the arm fell, the momentum carried him off of the side of the rock, sending him plummeting into the freezing waters. The instant he hit, he began sinking at a fast rate of speed as the water seemed sentient, intent on pulling him down into its depths.

Though the cave was dark, he still had the ability to see everything around him. Mutilated and tortured bodies floated around him, almost mocking his descent. He tried to swim upwards, as some of his strength had returned when he entered the water, but he couldn't do anything aside from falling next to the rock's underwater base.

Every foot that he fell, the sense of ominous pressure increased. The hatred, jealousy and rage were like needles through the top of his skin, and insects crawling around below it. Never had he felt something such a hideous sensation, but he knew that he never wanted to feel it again.

Hitting bottom, Ichigo searched desperately to find any way to get back to the top. He felt constantly on the verge of drowning, yet he wasn't losing consciousness. Rather, the water seemed to be thinning and keeping him awake as well as feeling as if he were about to die. Forcing the sensation down, he looked back to the base, hopefully for something to climb with.

He barely kept himself from yelling in horror at what he saw. A massive cross was leaning against the stone, but what horrified him was what was so intensely bound to it. A head with fangs out of the opened mouth, large black wings, a humanlike torso, with the lower body of an…Asian dragon?

In addition to the inconceivable body, there were spikes and tools pinning each and every part dozens of times over to the cross. Even the eyes were covered, dripping blood into the opened mouth. The sight was horrifying, yet pitiful, and even revolting.

Continuing to stare in horrified wonder, Ichigo wondered what could have possibly happened to cause this creature to be bound in such a cruel way. As if to prove that point, he noticed that a large pin was even nailed through it's mouth and into it's skull, yet he could tell that the creature was alive. Seemingly in response, a mournful moan escaped its mouth.

Cautiously moving closer to the being, Ichigo realized that words were written on each of the pins that sealed onto the cross. Though trepidation, and even pity colored his thoughts, curiosity was overriding them.

' _Whatever this is, it may know what the hell this place is, and why I feel like I'm dying every time I leave the water.'_

Immediately in front of the creature, he swallowed his revulsion and reached forward, pulling the pin that was in it's mouth. Unable to budge it, he peered into the opening and saw that there were letters on it as well. Seeing the letters, he felt his mind read the words without understanding, and he spoke while pulling the pin.

"Pthiy"

Instantly, the pin came loose. His skin crawled even more intensely as he watched the flesh that had been pierced by it knit itself back together and the mouth—aside from the fangs—returned to normal. After a long, relieved sigh, the being's mouth opened and a rich, rousing voice spoke.

"Ah, you kind, kind soul, you have lessened my endless torment. How may I ever thank you?"

 **XXXXXX**

Hades watched in amusement from his perch atop the cave. This was far better than he could have imagined. He had simply given the boy the ability to read the seals that had been placed within Cocytus, just in case he had actually succeeded in escaping.

However, for him to use that ability to unknowingly release the mouth of Samael?! Being from a Shinto culture, the boy would likely have no clue that the terms for Samael were used for a reason.

Seducer. Accuser. Destroyer. The very Venom of God.

Yet the boy had released his mouth? Hades chuckled to himself as he watched the scene unfold. He knew the words inscribed on the seals, and had even been told of their significance when God had brought Samael into the Underworld to be kept.

Hades openly laughed as he watched a bright light erupt beneath the surface of Cocytus. Neither Ichigo, nor Samael, had any clue as to the events that would unfold should one release the other, yet it seemed that they were about to learn.

 **XXXXXX**

Ichigo gasped for air as he broke the surface of the water. After a mere moment, he slammed his razor sharp fingers into the stone beside him. Over and over, he used them to drag himself upwards to the top of the stone spire.

Feeling a weight dragging him down, Ichigo nearly lost his grip as he saw a scaled tail hanging down. His pants, nearly completely destroyed, were ripped high enough to reveal what was left of his legs. Dark, glistening scales covered the lower half of his body, while fearsome claws protruded from his feet.

He had no time to focus on his changes, because once at the top, he grasped his head, growling under the strain within his body and mind.

" _Destroy him! Destroy Heaven, bring the arrogant archangels to their knees!"_

The voice bellowing within his mind was overwhelming. Unable to stem the roaring torrent of rage, he did the only thing he could. Finding the pack that Kisuke had given him, he fumbled for the phone. As if sensing what he was doing, the thoughts increased in intensity and a pair of wings erupted from his back and tried to begin flight.

Opening the device, he heard it dialing, and as he waited for the shopkeeper to answer, he could not help but look back at how he had gotten there.

…

" _Ah, you kind, kind soul, you have lessened my torment. How may I ever thank you?"_

 _Ichigo paused in shock at the kindness, the sincerity in the voice. Though he had no clue as to what was truly happening, he responded, "Where are we? What's going on? Who are you? How can we talk under water?"_

 _Bubbles escaped the now frowning mouth as the being replied, "We are in Cocytus, the river of eternal torment. Our ability to speak is a part of the curse. Hope so close, only to be taken away the moment you move upwards."_

 _The voice was tired, yet so rich, so inviting. Each word mesmerized Ichigo, as they flowed with such power and painted such a desperate portrait within his mind. Losing himself in the cadence, Ichigo couldn't help but to believe each word that left it's lips._

" _As far as what is going on," it continued, "I can only imagine what happened to trap you here in this torment, but you have relieved such a brutal burden for me. You also asked my name. I am Samael, once a seraphim of Heaven who was betrayed, cast down and sealed into eternal torment by the very God who created me."_

 _Ichigo pitied the being before him. His words wove such a tale of woe, yet one so similar to his own. Entranced by the very voice of the angel, Ichigo had to know more, had to hear the voice speak again and asked, "Why were you betrayed?"_

" _Why is anyone betrayed by those whom they serve? Fear, jealousy, resentment. I was tasked as the Angel of Death. I served diligently, yet God became fearful of my power, and resentful of the dragon nature of my being. In a fit of jealous rage, he sealed my powers, cast me out of heaven, and gave me to Hades to be watched over for eternity."_

 _With every word, Ichigo was drawn even further into the spell of this being's charisma. Such a being had endured an even worse fate than himself, yet he understood the circumstances. Had he not experienced the same? He gives up his powers to save the Soul Society, only to be cast out, persecuted to the ends of the earth._

" _Samael, I'm sorry that you suffered like that. I just went through much the same. I gave my powers to protect others, but the one's I sacrificed them for threw me away, then tried to kill me, which drove me here." He could not explain why, but he words were being forcefully dragged from his lips. In reality, he could not care less. This being, this betrayed angel was in such pain, pain that Ichigo could understand._

" _I understand your plight, kind one. Were I able to remove these seals, I would free you from this prison myself. What is your name?"_

" _My name is Ichigo Kurosaki."_

 _"Ichigo Kurosaki..." Samael whispered, power reverberating through his voice and causing Ichigo's skin to tingle._

 _"Can your seals not all be removed? I was able to free your mouth, so why couldn't the rest of you be freed?" Ichigo asked as if it were simply logical._

" _You would do that? How could someone of your kindness ever have arrived in Cocytus? If you free me from the rest of these seals, kind soul, I would gladly offer all of my assistance in freeing you from this prison."_

 _Pin after pin, Ichigo spoke ancient words to release the bindings on Samael. The words were powerful, his tongue heavy after each one uttered. Yet, he couldn't stop. The relief, the sheer gratitude that showed on the being's face drove him onwards._

 _After what seemed to be ages, Ichigo finally released the last seal, freeing the eyes of Samael. "You're free. Are you alright?"_

 _With a satisfied groan, the being raised to it's full height, towering over his savior, and stretched his limbs and wings. A deep, guttural laugh came from its throat. "I am more than well, Ichigo Kurosaki."_

 _A sense of dread spread over Ichigo as he heard his name spoken once more by the former angel. As if waking from a hazy dream, he looked up and took in the creature that was Samael. All of the feelings of hatred, jealousy and rage were reawakened with a vengeance, and he began to panic. Before he could move, he found himself pinned to the stone behind him._

" _Be at peace, boy. Though I am not what you thought me to be, I will keep my word and free you. You should know that I have not lied to you. I was cast out of Heaven, as I am the half of God that he was ashamed of. His rage, his malice, and his hatred of dragons and more are what constitutes my existence. Though the Angel of Death, it seemed that the holy father couldn't be bothered to keep his other half."_

" _What are you going to do?" Ichigo asked, wondering just what he had unleashed. The bitterness in Samael's words was worrying. The hatred of the God of the bible? Was such a thing possible? Feeling the emotions bearing down on him, he could not help but agree._

 _A dark chuckle met his question. "What else? I shall to return to Heaven, and express my displeasure. Once it lies in ruin, then I shall turn my attention to the dragons that plague this world."_

 _Before Ichigo could continue, a light began to glow at the center of Samael's forehead, as well as the spike that was still in Ichigo's hand. Seeing the creature grasp his head in pain, he soon joined in as thunderous words echoed in both of their minds._

" _ **Samael the Seducer, the Accuser, the Destroyer. Though your bonds have been released, you shall be bound to the very being that you deceived. As with the heavenly dragons, your existence shall be bound into a Sacred Gear. Your curse shall be contained within a vessel not of your own existence. Such is the punishment for your crimes. This vessel shall be your bearer, your partner, your master."**_

 _At that, the light increased, piercing the darkness and binding both Ichigo and Samael together._

' _No. No!' Ichigo thought. Bound to the Angel of Death, the bearer for the malice of the God of the bible?! It couldn't be possible!_

 _He soon knew different, as the beam of light connecting them grew brighter, and screams of anger and pain erupted from the half dragon-half angel as he dissolved, the parts of him floating into Ichigo's body._

 _After what felt to be an eternity, an unearthly bellow rang out throughout the river, loud enough to shake the cavern, and Ichigo raced to the surface of the water._

…

"Why hello there, my star pu—" Kisuke's cheery voice broke through the memory, only to be cut off.

"Kisuke! Shut up and listen! I'm in the—ungh," his student said he groaned in pain. Instantly on alert, he quelled the panic that threatened to rise.

"Ichigo, what is going on? Where are you?"

"The Underworld. I fell into the river Styx, and Hades sent me to something called Cocytus. I didn't mean to, but I released seals for Samael, and then I heard God's voice say that he's my Sacred Gear. Help me, Kis—nngh!"

Urahara's blood ran cold. Though broken, those words were never ones that he wanted to hear. Though a shinigami, he was well versed in many religion's mythologies, and what he was hearing was a collection of the worst of them. Styx? Cocytus? Samael?! Even Urahara knew who that was, and he could not say that he was happy to.

"Where are you now, Ichigo?" he asked, desperate for any clue as to where he was going.

"I can't keep him back! He's taking over, and wants to destroy—nnggh."

"What? He wants to what?!"

"...Heaven! He wants to—" the words ceased as a monstrous roar rang through the connection before the phone fell silent. Looking at the device in his hand in shock, it took several seconds for his mind to catch up and force him to move.

Turning, he began to gather items he been preparing. Never assuming anything like this, Kisuke was nothing if not flexible.

"Going somewhere?" a gruff voice asked from behind him. Turning, he saw Isshin Kurosaki looking at him in concern.

"We sure are. Let's go see your boy," he responded, only to have an impossibly firm hand grip his shoulder.

"Kisuke, what's going on?" he asked, his tone offering no room for debate.

"We don't have time for this! Apparently, Ichigo visited both the river Styx and Cocytus, and is now possessed by Samael. He just escaped from the Underworld. Still want to hold me here?" Urahara snapped, frustrated at the interruption.

Knowing that the dumbfounded Isshin was simply a worried parent, he added, "Come on Isshin, I need your help. He's about to cross a line that he can't uncross."

"What do you mean? Where's he going?"

"Heaven, Isshin. He's going to attack Heaven."


	2. Chapter 2

**a/n: Wow! Thank you all for the incredible reception for this story! You guys have been amazing. This, and my other crossover have gotten quite a bit of positive review, and I am grateful! Anyway, on with the show.  
**

 **For those who said that there was a lot going on in the first chapter...um...buckle up. Read, review, Enjoy!**

Heaven.

A term long used to describe paradise and that which is most wonderful. A place of rest and reward, the result of living a life dedicated to God. So many words used throughout history to to describe it, yet no one expression able to capture the grandeur and majesty that was Heaven.

Heaven. Home of the bravest of saints, the servants of God, and the dimension that inspired such stories of wonder and hope within humankind. Even the mere mention of Heaven was enough to inspire hope and courage throughout history.

The dimension itself was beautiful without equal. Colors beyond imagination, sensations beyond comprehension. The very heights of joy, the depth of peace, and the limitlessness of creation all emanated throughout the very atmosphere.

Such a place was the home to names known throughout scores of religions and beliefs; Michael. Gabriel. Raphael. Uriel. The purest of beings, Seraphim, the mightiest of angels and guardians of the realm. The beings themselves had been created in an effort to even begin to describe the Holy One who resided in the land without blemish.

" _Heaven, the seat of hypocrisy."_

Samael's voice overwhelmed the battered mind of Ichigo Kurosaki, his new vessel…his _master._ With every moment that passed, an unquenchable resentment festered. Anger, hatred, jealousy and fury grew in rapid pace, unending, never abating as he crudely prepared a magic circle to transport him to the gates. Due to the merger with the boy, he wanted as little risk as possible for what he was going to do.

Dragging his fingers through the coarse sand, he savored the sensation of feeling…anything. Freezing waters, pins and that forsaken cross had been the only things he had felt in far too long. However, the pleasant distraction could not last.

 _Betrayers! Usurpers!_

Power flowed through his borrowed limbs as his mind raged. The moment his seals had been removed, the torrent of power that was his own began to fill both his and Ichigo's existences. The initial sensation was incredible, a nearly euphoric consciousness that seemed to melt his nerves in relief.

Picking his hand up from the ground and flexing his fist, he felt the mind of his master—the very word was a slap to his face—weakly try to reclaim control of his body. The voice was only one in a chorus of fury, and even the orb in his chest flickered impotently, but he would not be denied. Yes, he could acknowledge that the boy's will was great, yet it paled in comparison to a hatred born of thousands of years of torture and denial.

He frowned as the voice increased. For all of the shouting, there was simply not enough power to overtake him. He could not explain how, and it might be only a temporary advantage, given that God had used the word 'master' for the boy, but it would suffice. Samael had control, and would violently quell any attempts to regain it until every level of Heaven was razed to the ground.

Even thinking of the name of his former home inspired hatred.

Heaven, home of the treacherous Seraphim. Traitorous brethren who turned their back on one who had done what they never could. Sanctimonious cowards who hid behind their pious 'identities', clinging to their assigned aspects of God while his very existence was struck from all record and he was sentenced to eternal punishment.

And for what? Samael had been what they hadn't, had done what they couldn't. The half of God that none wanted to acknowledge, the Angel of Death had been the bastard child of a gilded system. The almighty 'Holy One' simply couldn't bear to acknowledge the hatred, the violence, the unyielding wrath that was essentially his other half.

A half that had actually been created as one of the great Seraphim. Samael had ruled over Fifth Heaven, a level all his own to keep him from tainting the other Seraphs. While his role had been a necessary evil, God never could stand to have the representations of his own splendor tarnished by such a being for long, which is why he eventually cast the Angel of Death out of Heaven.

 _The truth of life is the embrace of death_

His mantra, his anchor to sanity throughout the unending, harsh years of captivity. The words a lifeline to his purpose, his ultimate role within the world. They sustained his hate, kept his focus within the tumult that had been his mind for so long. It had been a revelation, a discovery he had many years ago when pondering his own existence.

He had been created to bring balance. With God creating so many beings, as well as interaction with the other pantheons, the Creator would have to have known that peaceful, long lives were impossible. Samael was the equilibrium to that impossibility. His role as the Angel of Death was the incarnation of God's wrath and rage, to even that which was out of balance.

Finally finished, Samael moved Ichigo's feet to stand in the center of the magic circle that he had drawn in the middle of the sandy desert. Once they had escaped the Underworld, he had immediately begun to prepare for his attack. There would be no wait, no preparation, simply carnage.

Letting his magic flow freely, the circle began to glow black. Within an instant, he was staring at a hatefully familiar gate. Gathering his power, he was surprised to see the massive gate begin to turn grey and begin to crumble simply in response to his presence. Had Heaven actually weakened so much in his absence? Samael would certainly test it to find out, but it seemed that the weakening gate was a welcome for his arrival.

 _Welcome home, indeed,_ he smirked, releasing the gathered energy.

 **XXXXXX**

Michael sighed as he rubbed his temples. Dropping his hands onto the table where he sat, he picked up his cup of coffee and once more looked down at the files spread out before him. Gabriel had just brought him the latest of them this morning. The past week had been a nightmare, and he was experiencing the worst of it now. Waiting.

Setting his cup down, he pinched the bridge of his nose. How? How could he have been so careless? He was the Archangel, the ruler of Heaven, yet he had missed the resurrection and devil reincarnation of not only the Hakuryuukou, but the Sekiryuutei as well? And if that wasn't enough, it seemed that fate was mocking him further as both heavenly dragons were claimed by the Grigori and Devils, respectively.

It wasn't as if either would have been likely to be claimed by Heaven. Well, he would have been happy to welcome either into Heaven, if he were to be honest. His angel's numbers were almost laughably low, and he didn't share the late God's loathing for dragons. Still, for both to emerge and be claimed by Sirzechs and Azazel so quickly under his very nose? How could he have missed it?

With all of that to deal with, one would think that he would have enough on his plate. Right?

Wrong.

Just a week ago, he learned that the Shinigami had experienced one of the most massive wars within a millennia. Japan had nearly been torn asunder, literally, if that massive spike in power that even he had noticed from all the way in Heaven had been any indication.

Normally, he had little to do with the Soul Reapers—they were Amaterasu's to deal with— even less so as she had delegated all responsibilities to the Soul King. Serving their purpose, they did not often make waves, and realistically, he had no manpower to devote to monitoring them when there were so many other more immediate threats. However, he had kept communication open, regardless of how recently they had begun, with a man that he called his 'source'. A source that had been very hard to find, as of late.

How he met the man was something that was making more and more sense with every bit of information he had received this past week. Years ago, he had been highly alarmed when he noticed several souls that had come into Heaven quite…mangled. When he had examined the souls, he had traced them to Japan, and had traveled there himself to investigate.

His search had led him to an area called Karakura Town, a small, clean town that seemed to be an epicenter for what the Shinigami called 'spiritual activity'. One day, after turning up no answers, he had been walking through a quieter part of the town when he came upon a candy shop.

Michael smirked as he popped a piece of candy in his mouth, the taste seeming to enhance his memory. That shop had seemed to appear out of nowhere, but having a secret sweet tooth, he had decided to stop by. The moment he had stepped in, he was greeted by both a little boy and girl, each who offered to sell him candy.

However, he had instantly been on alert. The energies that he had felt reminded him clearly of the few Shinigami that he had met before. He nearly jumped when a voice behind him jovially started, "Welcome, traveller! Are you enjoying my vast array of affordable sweets, or are you looking for something in particular?"

Turning at the implied question, Michael came face to face with a man in an interesting hat and coat. The green and white stripes were certainly a fashion statement, but the hard grey eyes that peered out from beneath the rim told him that the man knew that Michael was not what he had disguised himself to be.

"Hello, my name is Michael. You are right, I must say that I am finding myself looking for something particular. That being said, I can't help but think that you are someone who could certainly help me." The answering smile became the beginning of the strangest…friendship…that he could ever recall having.

Continuing to enjoy his candy, Michael peered down at a particular file. Gabriel had done well in gathering information following the Shinigami war, and he found himself looking sadly at the picture of an orange haired young man.

"Ichigo Kurosaki", he said aloud. The name itself had held no particular significance to him before, yet the information within the file had deeply saddened the ruler of Heaven. A young boy—apparently the one who had performed that massive attack—called upon to be the hero in a war that he had no business even knowing about, betrayed and chased into the Underworld after such a heavy sacrifice.

The story hurt his heart. While he was only newly familiar with the idea of 'the hogyoku', Michael thought it to be too much like what had happened to one of the nuns in his church. The poor girl had healed a devil, and was cast out. Not only that, but he had also discovered a disgusting program in some churches to create holy sword wielders. How were these children being put into these situations?

Michael certainly understood the ideal of sacrificing one to save many. He took no joy in it, but leaders seldom got to make choices that they could take joy in. Both Ichigo and the young girl were unfortunate people who were simply seen as threats. While he could understand their stories as a person, the whims of 'people' in mass were far too volatile to introduce sparks such as them. Still, why must they be the ones chosen?

"Poor children," he muttered, looking at the list of all of the boy's adventures. Certainly a man ahead of his time, the young Shinigami had defeated so many enemies, done so many things to protect not only the Soul Society, but the people in his own world. All of that, yet chased to his doom within the Underworld.

Michael held no illusions or fantasies. Hades would never let a Shinigami who had 'trespassed' into his world just leave. Just the thoughts of what could happen to the boy were heart wrenching.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, as a small device in his pocket began to vibrate. Retrieving it, he hoped to get some answers on the aftermath, as only one person could be calling this device.

"Hello, Kisuke. I must say that I have been looking forward to hearing from you," he greeted pleasantly. Though stressed, Michael was never able to let his manners slip.

"I am afraid that you won't really be happy, this time," came the tense reply. The tone caused concern, as the man had never been anything but jovial in the entire time Michael had known him.

"What is the matter? Is there—"

"I'm sorry to cut you off, Michael-san, but this is incredibly urgent. I assume that you are aware of the war we just finished, and of Ichigo Kurosaki?" Urahara asked.

"Yes, I was actually just looking through a file on him when you called. I even saw that he was chased into the Underworld. I'm sorry to hear—"

"He's out. Listen closely, as I don't have time to tell you everything because I am on my way to Heaven as we speak. I need you to open the gates for me and one other. I don't know what all happened, but Ichigo just called me and said that God's voice gave him something called a Sacred Gear, and that it's possessing him and heading your way to unleash Hell!"

"What?! That's not possible. What is the name of this—"

Michael cut himself off when he immediately leapt to his feet as alarms suddenly began blaring. Looking out his window, he saw Gabriel flying quickly to the observation platform. He had to talk to her immediately to let her know out just what was going on. Whatever this was, they could not allow the delicate balance of Heaven that they worked tirelessly to maintain collapse.

An intermittent buzzing pulled his attention, yet it took a full moment of shock before he realized that Kisuke was still on the line. Pulling the phone back to his ear, he heard the end of a word that sounded like "El". His mind scrambling through possibilities, he recalled no Sacred Gears that ended in 'el'.

 _It's not as if a Sacred Gear could possess anyone, regardless. I know of every one created, and..._

' _Wait,'_ he thought. Memories began racing through his mind. Memories of life eons ago, before time existed. Memories that, now, only he was alive to recall. Or so he thought. _Underworld…God's voice gave him…no. No, it cannot be possible!_

His mind was instantly thrust back in time.

" _Samael," God spoke from his throne, revulsion coloring his tone. Even Michael, the Archangel of Heaven could not stifle his flinch at the malice contained in that one word. However, though he was not alone in his discomfort, the battered and beaten Angel of Death glared balefully at his creator._

' _Samael, you cursed being. You conspired to bring about the downfall of humanity. You have separated my dear creations from me.'_

 _A labored scoff was the response. "I separated them? Surely you jest, oh Holy One. Just as is my function, I merely did what you could not."_

 _Samael's words were violently cut off as a massive wave of pressure suddenly bore down on the area. Coming to his feet, God looked down on his most abhorred creation._

" _You dare to insult me? You vile creature, you know not what you say."_

" _Don't I?" the bitterly smirking angel gasped. "Does looking upon that which you cannot accept conflict you, Lord?"_

 _The mocking tone in which he spoke incensed the ruler of Heaven even further. "That which I cannot accept? If you wish to embody that which I despise, so be it.'"_

 _Waving his hand, God released a golden shimmer to settle over the prostrated Seraph, causing him to writhe in pain._

 _Groaning in pain, Samael looked down as he felt a horrid sensation consuming his body. Horror seemed to cloud his mind as he took in what had occurred. Grotesque scales covered his lower half, and a long tail trailed behind him. Noticing movement in his periphery, he turned in shock to see his once beautiful white wings were now as black as pitch._

 _God, the deity who had discarded what he considered to be his worst attributes into his servant, now mocked Samael even further? He had not only forced the Seraph to fall from his status, but had forced an amalgamation of his most loathed enemy: dragons!_

 _Hatred unlike anything he had ever felt before savagely boiled within his soul. Jealousy spiked as Michael noticed him watching while he simply stood there, unmoving. Unable to hold his tongue, the devastated angel bellowed at his creator._

" _Curse you! Curse you, and all of your sycophantic beings! You coward, you cannot even accept parts of yourself! How pathetic for God, to push what he cannot face into his servant, only to betray that servant for fulfilling his purpose! Kill me now, or I will destroy them all. I will turn human against human, and make you watch as your precious toys fall into further ruin!"_

" _Enough!" God responded, the power in his voice seizing Samael's body. Raising his hand, he decreed, "You shall not further harm my creations, nor shall you die. You shall suffer eternal punishment for your deeds. Bear witness to the wrath you so blindly courted."_

 _With that, Samael was forced onto his back. Feeling something beneath him, he had no time to think about what it was as his limbs were dragged outwards. Sharp, agonizing eruptions of pain lit his nerves in rapid succession. Turning, he saw massive bolts piercing his wrists._

 _Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to swallow his screams of anguish. However, his silence allowed him to hear God speak. "Samael, the destroyer, I take from you your hands."_

 _Opening his mouth to once more curse his tormentor, a loud squelch was followed by a strangled cry as another bolt was forced through the roof of his mouth and into the beam behind him. "Samael the Seducer, may your voice corrupt no more."_

 _Once the mangled screams had subsided into low moans, pins and bolts covered his entire body, bolting him to a cross. Though obviously in agony, the Angel of Death looked upon his creator with unfathomable loathing. In one, last movement, God created a seal over his eyes that caused them to bleed onto his face. It was clear that he could hear nothing, nor sense anything but pain, yet one final curse came._

" _Samael, the very venom of God. You shall be a curse unto yourself. The blood of dragons you may have in your veins, yet dragons you shall continue to despise, to devour. Should you ever find yourself released, into the service of humanity will you be subjugated. Existence as a Sacred Gear, bound to whomever is able to unseal you, will be your curse."_

Michael snapped back to the present once more. Fear gripped his heart. This poor boy, having had such a pained life, had just gained a curse like no other. No. It couldn't be true. It simply couldn't.

 _There is nothing else it could be…_

"Kisuke, what is the name of his Sacred Gear?!"

 _Please, please do not let this be._

Michael dropped the phone as he heard one word above the loud alarms.

"Samael."

 **XXXXXX**

Gabriel landed at a viewing platform at the center of Sixth Heaven. Placed there to give both she and Michael, as well as the other Seraphs, sight into all levels, it had also provided them with a much faster means of travel between levels other than the elevator. It was the perfect place to see what had happened to trigger the alarms.

Looking down into first Heaven, her breath caught. Dust was still clearing, yet she could see massive chunks of stone littering the entrance. Even with the evidence so clearly before her, she struggled to comprehend just what was happening. Someone had been able to break the gate into Heaven?

That was supposed to be impossible for all except God, himself.

With the powers and wards within the gates, even the likes of Great Red and Ophis would have difficulty breaking through. Shaking her head minutely, she focused on the situation at hand. No matter how, it had happened. Looking more closely, she was stunned to see that the pieces of the once-pearly white gates were a sickly grey.

 _What?! Someone has stripped the very essence of the gates?_

Gabriel chided herself for her carelessness. How could she have missed someone coming to the gates of Heaven, especially someone that could actually break them? The answer made her scold herself even harder.

Ichigo Kurosaki.

The name had plagued her for most of the past week. Michael had sent her to Japan to investigate the unbelievable surge of energy that had been some sort of attack. Upon her arrival, she had discovered that a massive Shinigami war had just ended.

One of Michael's friends, a man named Kisuke Urahara, had actually met with her and spoke about what had happened. The man, while not what she would call 'normal', had been a wealth of information. Ichigo Kurosaki turned out to be a hero that had given up his childhood, his life, his humanity, and even a part of his soul, to protect countless lives from a madman.

Her anger had been great when she had learned of Ichigo's subsequent acquisition and treatment. So, he had gained the device called the Hogyoku. So, that device had actually been the major catalyst for the war. What about that meant that Ichigo would become corrupted by it? She had learned much about his past, and all evidence had pointed away from the boy betraying anyone, much less the entire Soul Society.

That—boy—had been her entire reason for being so distracted. A hero had been betrayed, cast out, and chased into the Underworld itself. She was not ignorant to the treatment that Hades gave to heroes, and her heart clenched every time she saw the picture of Ichigo. The orange hair and deep brown eyes had become almost synonymous with heroism, in her own eyes.

Though she felt justified in her thoughts of him, that distraction had proven to be a dangerous mistake, on her part. Every pulse of the alarms seemed to be an accusation, a highlighting of her failure. Shaking her head, she forced herself to concentrate yet again.

Though she had failed, she would not do so again. She had her duty, she had her abilities, which she would follow and use to protect Heaven from this threat.

Drawing herself up, Gabriel spread all twelve of her wings. It had been too long since she had last unleashed her full power, but she would remind whomever had decided to disturb the peace of her home why she was called the strongest woman in Heaven. Feeling her power flowing, she opened her hand and summoned a massive spear of light.

Looking down once more, her body froze as a figure finally emerged from the cloud of dust. A figure with several jet black wings and…shocking orange hair? Her breath caught once more as, even from that distance, she was able to make out the face of the figure.

 _Ichigo Kurosaki!_

The revelation struck her far more heavily than she could have imagined. Ichigo was attacking Heaven? Why?! What had he to gain from this? He was supposed to be a hero, a man that fought for his loved ones, so why did he break down the gates and have the wings of a fallen angel?

Anger flooded through her. How dare he?! She couldn't help but feel somewhat betrayed by the revelation. She had not even met him, but she had believed in him, believed in his innocence. Gabriel had sympathized with him, had grieved for his lot in life, even lost sight of her duties in her distress over the fate of someone who had done so much, yet he comes and attacks her home?

No. Her distraction ended here. Her sympathy, her mercy ended here. Creating a spear of light, she was about to take off in pursuit when a buzzing in her ear caught her attention.

" _Gabriel! Gabriel! Do you copy?"_ her brother's frantic voice called over her communication device.

"Yes Michael. I have a visual of the intruder. Once I finish speaking to you, I will be in pursuit." Why was her brother radioing her? Was he going to be joining the fight, as well?

" _Gabriel, do not engage. I repeat, do not engage the intruder. It is Ichigo Kurosaki, but all is not well. He is possessed, and incredibly dangerous. Do not engage."_

Stunned, Gabriel looked back to the man who had just shattered the gates. Possessed?

"What do you mean, brother? He has the wings of a fallen, and has somehow destroyed the gates! I have to face him, if for no other reason than to slow him down. Our brave saints will be no match for him, likely not even Dulio. For that matter, where are you?"

Her brother's voice came back, this time much sharper. " _I know what he has done, Gabriel. You are not to engage him. He is possessed by some—one—that would prove a challenge to even me, and I fear for what has happened to him as well as what must happen. As for where I am, I am in the armory. I will be able to engage him shortly."_

Gabriel gasped. This was bad. This was very bad. Michael _never_ went to the armory, under any circumstances. It had taken the very height of the last war to get him to even consider it. The relics kept there were powerful beyond imagining, and she could fathom nothing that could require her brother to need them.

"Michael, what is going on?! What could possibly make you go to the armory?"

" _Gabriel, do not repeat what I am about to tell you. We cannot have Heaven in a panic any further than it already will be. A monstrous curse has been unleashed. In the very beginning of the days of humans, when humanity fell, God cursed a Seraph with eternal punishment. You know this from the stories that I have told you, but there is more. The curse that God placed meant that if this Seraph were ever released, he would be forced to become a Sacred Gear. I have no idea how, but that's what Ichigo found in the Underworld."_

"No," she whispered, dread coloring her tone. This was worse than she could have imagined. Samael was released. Though stricken from history itself, Michael had told her stories of Samael, the Angel of Death, the Accuser, the Seducer.

And now Samael had possessed Ichigo Kurosaki. Not only that, but he had taken the boy's body to attack Heaven.

Knowing exactly what Michael was looking for, she knew that she could not remain idle. A hero was under the control of the Angel of Death, a legend of nightmarish proportions. Having had little contact with him before he had been cursed by God, she only knew that the Venom of God was a force to be reckoned with.

Sending a command to her Queen, Gabriel was struck by a sudden thought. A crazy, audacious thought. Moving quickly, she leapt from the platform, diving toward Fifth Heaven and hoping beyond hope to avoid as much tragedy and destruction as possible—and not just for Heaven.

 **XXXXXX**

"Halt, vile being! You may go no further!"

Angry voices and shouts rang out all around Samael. Looking around him, he saw that dozens of warriors had gathered, surrounding him. Spears, swords, and beams of light were all drawn against him, each trying to halt his progress.

What surprised him, though, was that his assailants were not all angels. While there were plenty of white wings among the throng of attackers, many felt…wrong. Sniffing the air, whiffs of human crossed his nose. The growl that emanated from his throat couldn't be contained.

"It would seem that much has happened since I was last here. Just who are you, boy?" Samael snarled, turning to the one who had the audacity to try and stop him. He had no patience for underlings. Too long had he waited for the chance to fight God and Michael, only to be delayed by weak subjects.

"I am a Brave Saint of lord Michael! You will go no further, Fallen Angel—or dragon, whatever you are!" the young angel exclaimed, pointing a sword at Samael's chest.

The growls that had been rumbling within Samael's chest immediately ceased. How dare this mere boy speak to him this way! Hearing further comment on the loathsome curse bestowed upon him only served to further enrage the former Seraph.

"Fallen Angel? Dragon?" he whispered, the venom in his voice unmistakeable. Pain tore through his face as his fangs extended and an unnatural hiss escaped his throat. His host body was clearly not attuned to his presence, but it made no difference. Pain was nothing. Pain had been his existence for thousands of years, and became a part of his very nature.

Rising to his full height, Samael spread all twelve of his wings. Though not what he had expected to be able to bear, he showed no reaction to the jet black wings that were flaring from his back. He scowled dangerously, however, at the bold 'Brave Saint' before him whose eyes had gone wide.

"You know nothing of what you speak, boy. Fallen Angels, dragons, I am so much more than that!" he snarled before launching himself forward. Appearing nearly instantaneously before him, Samael watched in darkened amusement as the young angel swung a gleaming sword.

The crashing sound of metal shattering froze many surrounding him. Glancing down to his arm, where the sword had struck, he was momentarily surprised. There was nothing. No mark, not even a sign of irritation on his skin. The sensation of being struck could barely be called that, as he could only tell that something made contact with his skin.

 _Why did—_ he thought to himself, only to come across the answer seconds later. Flexing his hand, he closed it into a fist.

 _The River Styx'_

It would appear that his new vessel, his new—host…just thinking the word _master_ made him lose what was left of his composure…—had gained the legendary benefits of that accursed river. Though unexpected, as the boy's memories proved no intention of even traveling to the Underworld, it was not an unwelcome development.

Bringing his attention back to the present, he raised a hand, gripping the attacking angel by the throat. "Out of my way, child" Samael growled, raring back and throwing the warrior mercilessly through the wall of a nearby building. The attack seemed to snap those around out of their awe induced stupor, and with a series of loud cries, they charged forward to begin their assault.

A snarl built on his lips as he felt his magic build through the body he now inhabited. It felt foreign, almost tainted. The boy, a random amalgamation of spiritual powers, was now simply a shell for the Angel of Death and some orb that still flickered impotently within his chest. However, Samael's magic seemed forced, his angelic powers strained.

Finally summoning a spear of light, he waited until the first wave of warriors had come close enough, then threw it into the ground with enough force to cause a bomb-like detonation. Seeing the fighters tumbling end over end through the air, Samael went on the offensive.

Concentrating his energy, two beams of light appeared in his hands, curving into blades. With a strong flap of his wings he flew forward, rocketing through the dust that had been blown into the air from his strike.

Appearing where the area had begun to clear, Samael found himself amidst a large group of supposed brave saints. Warriors with only one, or at the most, two sets of wings surrounded him. Without a word, he waded into the throng, slashing and striking with his blades.

The cries of angels falling to his blades filled the air. He struck without mercy, carving a path of agony through the mass of attackers. None were killed, however. No, he couldn't allow any angel to die at the moment.

 _Oh no, you all have to live to see what comes next. You all will get to see the true nature of your dear Lord._

However, nothing came next. When the warriors around him had all fallen, there was nothing. No sneak attacks, no…anything. Frustration was quick, anger even quicker. This was not what was supposed to happen. There was only one being he wanted paying attention to what was happening, only one being that he truly wanted to face.

Samael felt the borrowed body humming with his anticipation. After so many millennia, he wanted to see the face of the one who had damned him. He wanted to see the surprise, the frustration, the regret in God's eyes.

He smirked as he pictured the coming confrontation. The benevolent deity would have his hands tied, wouldn't he? Regardless of the random combination of spiritual aspects, his host's body was human. Samael had sifted through the memories, and discovered that the boy's human body had been absorbed? Combined? Some kind of joining with his spiritual one, so that one could not be discerned from the other.

Regardless, the boy was still human. A human, one of the precious little beings that the Holy One was so fond of. While Samael had learned that God had been responsible for an astounding number of human deaths, since he had been unable to fulfill his role, he was certain that the creator would not be able to harm such a tragic hero of a human.

It was interesting, he thought as he waited, how fate seemingly dropped the boy into his prison. A hero-type who had just won a war for the Shinigami was betrayed and driven to the Underworld? Specifically, into the River Styx, then a meeting with Hades, who decided to send him to Cocytus for entertainment?

Fate certainly hated the boy named Ichigo Kurosaki, it seemed.

Samael could not say that he felt much differently. Though he understood that Ichigo had simply become collateral damage, a tool within a vendetta that had lasted more lifetimes than the angel cared to think of, the fact remained that God had made him Samael's _master_. Such a derogatory term. So base, so primitive, and he knew beyond any shadow of doubt that this had been God's intent. Humiliation, subjugation, all to desecrate the pariah angel.

That was why Samael's searing hatred was also directed at this boy, Ichigo Kurosaki. Though the one to set him free, the child was someone who was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, had angered the wrong deities, yet now was the master to the very Venom of God.

 _Simply? Perhaps more than that, though I may just have to kill Michael in front of God's very eyes for this insult. If it humors him to create a new servant, I wonder how the Holy One would fare if it cost him his favorite._

An uncomfortable stillness overwhelmed the immediate area as he thought to himself. The alarms and groans of the wounded could be heard, but they seemed to be lost in the devastation around him. Destroyed houses and the ruins of streets marred the land, and the mangled bodies of Heaven's wounded soldiers were littered carelessly about.

Pacing in frustration at the lack of reaction to his attack, Samael began to think of more bold of options. If the cursed Angel of Death appearing and crippling an entire regiment of Angel subordinates was not enough to grab God's attention, then he would have to find another more drastic option to—

Samael paused, a sinister smile crossing his lips as he felt a massive aura rapidly approaching. Finally, his efforts seem to have produced results! Turning, he saw a blinding golden light crash into the ground, the dust fading to reveal…Michael?!

"No," he growled. "No, no, no, NO!" This was outrageous. This was beyond insulting! Leveling most of First Heaven, maiming dozens of angels, the mere fact that he was released; what more was needed?!

He watched as Michael raised himself to his full height, sighing deeply as the angel gazed sadly at him, the one that he had watched being bound so long ago. The look was so piteous, almost wounded, that it made Samael nearly nauseous with fury.

"All of this," he growled, waving his arm around to present the carnage to Michael. "All of this, and yet he sends you? His special little War Archangel, who has lived in luxury with all of the others, yet he couldn't be troubled to see me? After how many millennia? After endless years of torture, of being cursed for simply being what he couldn't face…"

"Samael," Michael called out, his voice quiet, yet carrying the steel of his ancient authority. "Samael, stop this. I know that you are bound to Ichigo as a Sacred Gear, so you will have to relinquish your hold on his body and mind, sooner or later. Give up this pointless grudge and surrender peacefully. I can guarantee that your punishment will not be what it was."

Eyes widening in shock, Samael felt flames of fury scream throughout his mind at the audacity of the statement. "Pointless grudge? Are you mocking me? You know nothing of suffering, nothing of pain. Who do you think that you are to guarantee what my punishment will or won't be? Your beloved Holy One has already bound me to this boy, in whatever a Sacred Gear is, as my punishment. Would he kill such a tragic hero, only to bind me once more? How cruel and petty this God of benevolence is."

Expanding his wings to their full breadth, Samael's aura started to emanate from his body, crumbling the ground beneath his feet as he snarled, "Get out of my way, Archangel. I want to face the Holy One. I want God to look upon what he cannot bear to acknowledge. I want him to realize that no matter what he does, he cannot escape his own nature! He's going to have to look his own hatred, his own aggression, his own rage in the eyes and recognize me for what I am! And even once he does, I am going to continue ripping those precious humans from his grasp."

 **XXXXXX**

Listening to the inconsolable rage from his former comrade in arms, Michael's eyes became even sadder. _'He doesn't know that God is dead. How could he?'_

Remembering the picture that he had seen of Ichigo Kurosaki, Michael noticed that the eyes were most certainly not his. Jet black eyes glared at him, jealousy and loathing burning within. Trembling hands alternated between fists and claws, and his body screamed of his readiness for battle. Samael was here for blood, God's blood, something that was impossible.

Searching for some kind of answer, some way to calm the shunned angel, Michael knew that it was a pointless debate. As he looked upon all of the broken Brave Saints and angels that were so carelessly strewn about, he knew that Samael would not stop. He would never stop. There was nothing that could be said or done that could ease the damage that thousands of years had done to his body, soul and mind.

That didn't mean that he wouldn't try.

"Samael, you have to let this go. Nothing that you can do will sate your lust for vengeance. You'll never get what it is that you want. You should know that—"

"What could you possibly know of what I want?!", Samael bellowed, interrupting Michael. "What can you possibly know of my mind?! You pious traitor, I care nothing for what you have to say. You simply clung to your maker while he created a lie to hide my existence, his hated nature."

"You know as well as I, Samael, that you simply reaped what you had sown. You intentionally drove humanity away from God, away from Eden. Did you not think that would carry consequences? Did you honestly believe that the Creator would allow his bond with his beloved humans be dissolved without retaliation?" Michael looked incredulously at the former Angel of Death. Surely he was not so naive?

The aura that had been leaking from Samael was now pouring in furious waves. Perhaps it was simply Michael's imagination, but he seemed to be taking on a more dragon like appearance. Hands looked more like talons, fangs extended, and the scales on the parts of his legs that were uncovered sharpened slightly. His breathing became more labored, yet it sounded more and more like a growl.

"Do not patronize me, Archangel," he spoke fiercely, his voice shaking as much as his body. "God was angry because I decided to give his little puppets something that he has only ever given humans the illusion of: Choice. I let them choose for themselves. He never could accept the fact that I acted true to the very natures that he had discarded, but what did he really expect?!

You want someone to blame? Blame God for making them so much in his image that they couldn't bear to face their ignorance. Blame God for keeping them so deeply in the dark that they instantly leapt at the opportunity to gain knowledge, that they craved to _know._ Blame God for trying to use his own image to make sheep!"

Michael could only stare in apprehension. This was not what he was expecting, not in the least. Samael was angry, no, he was beyond livid, but—he sounded far too sane. After several millennia of bondage, of torturous imprisonment, what being could be this lucid? There was bloodlust in his eyes, but it was held in check, the gripping fists giving testament to that.

He could feel the sheer hatred, the jealousy pouring out of the former Angel of Death. The atmosphere was drenched in the sensations of his rage. Yet, every word from his mouth seemed premeditated, as if planned and rehearsed. Still, enough was enough. Samael's rage was leading him down a path that had no ending.

"Samael, I understand that you're angry. You were angry even back then, and took it out on God by seducing his favored creations. I am fully aware of your grudge against God, and I am not saying that you—look," Michael paused, running his hand over his face before letting it subtly drop to the hilt of a sword at his hip. "I do not know another way of saying this, so I will be direct: Samael, God is dead."

A silent, paralyzing tension settled over the area, a gentle breeze the only movement. Michael only watched as Samael did…nothing. Nothing at all. No movement, no change whatsoever. He seemed frozen in time, his only movement was the rising and falling of his chest with each breath. Finally, after an interminably long time, a soft breath escaped him.

"What did you say?"

The words could hardly be called a whisper, yet Michael caught them, and everything that they carried. A hitch, a shudder in the words meant that the control that Samael had been showing so far had begun to falter.

"I said that—"

"Look me in the eye when you speak to me!" Samael screeched, his voice breaking as he cut off Michael's response. His eyes were wide, wild with fury. His body was tensed once more, crouched like a cornered animal. "Don't you dare lie to me, Michael! You will meet my gaze and repeat every single word that you just said."

Exhaling deeply, Michael's hand subtly gripped the hilt of the sword at his hip, releasing it slightly. He knew that something was coming, but Samael was proving impossible to predict. Taking one more deep breath, he quietly said, "God is dead. He died during the Great War with the devils and fallen angels."

"Liar!" Samael cried, his borrowed hands reaching to roughly grasp the hair on his head. His borrowed face was twisted in more emotions than he could process. Anger, hatred, and—if Michael was reading correctly—fear. "Impossible! He…I have to…he cannot escape justice so easily!"

As Michael watched, Ichigo's clawed hands gripped his head while he slid to his knees. He moaned, the pitiful sound growing louder until it became an inhuman growl.

"No. NonononononoNO!" he bellowed, the hands becoming fists and slamming into the ground once, twice, over and over until small craters were created. Sliding the sword that he had taken from the armory from its sheath, Samael's head rose at the sound. Stunned momentarily, Michael held back a grimace at the near reptilian eyes that glared at him.

Gone was the tightly governed anger, the controlled chaos that was his carnage. Gone was reason, his connection to reality, to sanity. Samael had clearly reached his limit.

"So, you planned to simply tell me of God's demise, then assume control of me through Excalibur, did you?" Ichigo's distorted voice growled. "You think that you can separate me from this boy? Cut me down, Michael. Kill the heroic boy…"

As he spoke, Samael rose to his feet and spread his wings. His aura flooded out from him, his power saturating the atmosphere. His face shifted, his anger giving way to a look of pure bloodlust.

"Take me down, Archangel, before I raze Heaven to the ground" he said, bending his knees in a crouch. Looking over his shoulder at Michael, he snarled, "If you can."

With that, Samael launched Ichigo's body upwards, flying at a blinding speed into the sky.

 **XXXXXX**

Kisuke grimaced as he arrived at the gates of Heaven. The massive doors, legendary in their strength, lay in jagged crumbles. Their pale, grey color a mocking testament to the strength of Heaven. The blaring alarms that echoed across the area made him see that he was too late to stop Samael's romp in Ichigo's body.

Warily, he and Isshin moved forward into the realm. Smoke and dust filled the air, yet as they made their way further into what Michael had told him was First Heaven, they began to encounter dozens of writhing bodies. The air became clearer with each step, and the true carnage became more apparent.

An expanse of ruined buildings and craters stretched into the distance, the bodies and limbs of the fallen covering the rest. Noticing movement, he saw several beings with four white wings each walking amongst the wounded. Quickly deducing that they were Heaven's equivalent of medics, he turned his attention to what remained, or rather, what was missing.

Where was Ichigo? The devastation around him proved that he had been here, but where was he now? Looking around, he squinted to find any hint of evidence he could when a loud rumble drew his gaze upwards. The thunderous sound continued for a moment, seeming to accompany a large shower of massive stones through a hole in the…sky?

Unable to help himself, Kisuke smirked at the notion that Heaven's realms were separated using technology much like what he used to create his training area beneath his shop. Another loud crash dragged him from his reverie, the newest shower of debris giving him a place to continue his search.

Turning to speak to Isshin, Kisuke quickly closed his mouth at the look on the elder Kurosaki's face. The anger, the worry that he saw in his friend's face was disturbing. "Isshin," he started, trying to—he wasn't quite sure. He only knew that he had rarely, if ever, seen such a look on his face.

"Let's go, Kisuke. I really want to see Ichigo, I need to…" He trailed off. Placing his hand on Isshin's shoulder, Kisuke waited until the man was ready to speak.

"I know who, or rather _what_ Samael is. I'm older than I look, Kisuke, and I've been aware of angels for a long time. I'm…I'm scared shitless about what that thing can do to my boy. I never thought I'd say it, but I'm not even worried about the Hogyoku right now, just what that savage is going to do to my son."

Nodding, Urahara couldn't agree more. He held the same worries as Isshin, which were only magnified by the worry that Michael had conveyed when they had spoken. "Then let's go get your hard-headed progeny. Samael may be daunting, but Ichigo's stubbornness is a force of nature. Let's go make sure he can use it."

Nodding to each other, the two men quickly leapt to the hole in the sky.

 **XXXXXX**

Samael hummed in satisfaction as roaring fires consumed Fourth Heaven. The lush vegetation of Eden that had escaped the flames of his fury was currently being buried beneath blankets of ash.

The scene was awash in contradiction, with fields of flames burning furiously alongside of fields of quiet. Yet a comforting equilibrium, a balance in perspective, made the scene all the more beautiful to him.

It was still not enough. As if alive, full of ill intent, the words that Michael had spoken still rang deafeningly within his mind. _God is dead._

 _No!_

 _God is dead._

 _The truth of life is the embrace of death_

 _God is dead._

 _The truth of life is the embrace of death!_

 _The truth…the truth…the…_

No matter how hard he tried, he could not pull himself above the chaos that was his consciousness. The news was too much. Too fantastical, too unbelievable, too...unacceptable.

How can this have happened?! God? One of the strongest beings ever to have existed was dead? Samael's mind rejected the thought. It couldn't be true. If it were, then his creator, the being who had shed part of his very nature and formed the Angel of Death—

 _No!_

He couldn't say it. He knew it was true, he had seen it all too plainly in Michael's eyes, but he could not bring himself to accept it. To do so, to admit that God was dead, meant that everything he had thought about, every ounce of purpose he had assumed for himself over countless years was lost. The object of his hate, the anchor of his sanity, would never be met.

 _The truth of life is the embrace of death!_

No, the truth was gone! The truth had died. There was no balance, no focus, no reason. There was nothing for him now. No retribution, no revenge, no justice for the crimes against him! His mind was tearing itself apart in a mad scramble for purpose, for—anything. Within his borrowed body, coils of flame wrapped around his innards, shortening his breath.

He grasped his head suddenly, grimacing at the strong voice in his mind. His host seemed to have fully awakened, and was quite displeased at the current situation. Shaking his head, Samael did what he could to steel his resolve. He had no time for lapses, no patience for interruptions. Interruptions left time for thinking, and thinking was something he could not bear, not at the moment. It seemed that Ichigo Kurosaki was still not strong enough to overtake control, but he was enough to cause trouble.

Turning his attention upward, he looked at the hole that he had made to Fifth Heaven. He may no longer have a purpose, but he could drown that out for the time being with this. Destruction. Carnage. Anything that could give him what he so desperately needed from the cold, hard truth.

Escape.

The reality of his existence was closing around him quickly. Ravaging the realm of his creator, of his betrayers, was all he could do. Gritting Ichigo's teeth, Samael rocketed upward. The mass of rubble that he had buried Michael underneath on Second Heaven should buy him a few moments more. It had been a stroke of luck that he had made such accurate contact with the Archangel's head, but he knew that he would regain consciousness soon, if he hadn't already.

Finally rising to his former domain, Samael closed his eyes in remembrance. He wanted to try and savor the bliss of being back in the one place that had been his own. No matter what had happened, this one memory of his former glory would be a welcome sight. If nothing else, he could briefly bask in the majesty of his home.

He remembered when God had given him the realm, a place to separate him from the rest of the Seraphim. Though it was to keep them 'pure', it still had given the Angel of Death a ruling, a status within Heaven.

 _At last, a moment within my own re—_

His thoughts were cut off as he opened his eyes.

 _No. No, not this, too._

He stared in horror at the buildings surrounding him. This was unfamiliar, to say the least. Tall, glossy buildings that were reminiscent of cities in Ichigo's memories shone like jewels. Sleek towers rose high into the skies, giving the appearance of a modern town.

The sight disgusted him. The seat of his throne, the vast expanse of his ruling had been transformed, stripped of it's splendor and turned into a glittering abomination. Where were the millions of angels under his command? Where was his own palace, the home of his throne?

A presence behind him caused him to turn. Michael, bleeding from his head and looking grim, still held the shard of Excalibur in his hand. He had told him that the original had been broken during the great war, but the piece that he held—Excalibur Ruler, he called it when he had explained its principles, still maintained a daunting level of potency.

However, the Archangel's face fell slightly as he gazed at the panicked Samael. Uncaring of how he felt, Samael could only breathe, "Why?"

Michael shifted, his blade lowering only slightly. "God decided, when you were banished, that this level would be better dedicated to updating the technology of Heaven. He believed that in order to not fall behind the devils, as well as the angels who had fallen with Lucifer—and afterward—that we needed to keep up with the unending progress of science and discovery."

Samael's expression dropped, leaving him blank. When he spoke, the edge to his words slowly became more and more apparent.

"You are trying to tell me that God, the brilliant creator, wanted to keep up with devils and fallen angels? Just how base do you think me to be, Michael?!"

Easing himself into a defensive position at the tone, Michael replied, "Calm yourself, Samael. He simply wanted those around him to be ahead of those who stole much of the knowledge of Heaven when they left. It was only natural."

The words fell on ears of stone, as Samael had returned his horrified gaze to the buildings around him. God had truly replaced him in every way. God, the very origin of Samael's nature, had stripped away even the essence of Samael.

 _Inconceivable. Unforgivable._

Flexing his power, a blade of light appeared in Samael's hand. Turning quickly, he attacked Michael in fury and created a shower of sparks when their blades connected.

"You erased me! You, you and your hypocritical God betrayed me in every way possible! Die! Die and join him in oblivion, as you once condemned me!"

Strike after strike, the two men clashed blades. Flowing with the grace of the ages, Michael swung the mighty holy sword. He moved swiftly, striking, dodging, jumping and flying. The holy Excalibur hummed in his hands, its power flaring with each swing. The sword seemed eager, hungry to exert it's power over its opponent.

Catching a strike aimed at his shoulder, Michael pulled the tightly connected blades in front of him. Flaring his aura, he pushed his power into the blade then outward, sending Samael tumbling through the air and destroying his weapon of light. .

Each blade that Samael created was shattered by the might of Excalibur, yet with each destroyed, another appeared to replace it. His magic was flowing, raring to release itself more aggressively. As if to counter it, he could feel the sword that Michael used in it's eagerness to dominate, to control. Each pulse from the sword only served to stoke his ire, to fuel his hatred.

Michael had chosen a weapon to subdue him, it would seem. It was infuriating, degrading, outrageous! The Archangel of Heaven wanted to turn the Angel of Death into a slave? Was the punishment from God not enough?! Being forced into a life of servitude as a Sacred Gear, a servant of a human master was horrible enough, but now Michael wanted to subjugate his will.

As the two beings separated, Samael glowered at Michael. "You sicken me, Michael. You want to strip my will from me? You have become as sadistic as the Holy One."

Michael's saddened look was beyond aggravating. "Samael, I will do whatever it takes to ensure Heaven's safety. You are lost to your rage, to your hatred. I will do what I can to save the unfortunate boy who was cursed with your presence, but stopping you is paramount."

The moment he finished speaking, Excalibur throbbed with power, causing Samael to shudder slightly as he felt a strong pull on his will.

" _Come to me."_

The whisper was so soft, he wondered if he had imagined it.

" _Come, find your peace through me."_

It was intoxicating. The pull was monstrously strong, seductive in a way that only he could understand. Gritting his teeth, he resisted the pulls of Excalibur.

" _Be at peace, weary one."_

 _No! The truth of life is the embrace of death!_

Repeating the words that had served him so well in the past, Samael fought the surge of strength from the legendary sword. It was not easy, yet he finally shrugged off the suggestive voice. Still, with his human host trying to regain control of his body, he couldn't risk any further pulls on his hold.

Seeing Michael's shocked expression at his resistance to Excalibur's pull, Samael couldn't help the satisfied sneer that crossed his lips.

"Why so surprised, Michael? Is it not expected for the Seducer to fend off the wiles of your blade? Do you forget my very composition?"

However glad he was of the Archangel's dismay, the insult of subjugation to Michael had incensed him, and he created two more swords of light—the strongest that he had made thus far.

Fighting as he had so far was getting him nowhere, but he found himself torn in conflict. The moment he defeated Michael, the strongest Heaven had to offer, he would be forced to face everything he had learned today, and all of the realities that came with it.

 _Just fight! Destroy all that you can, and worry about the rest when you must!_

Flying forward he reared back, ready to strike once more. Yet he held one blade slightly lower, hoping to catch the Seraph off balance and score a serious hit. Coming down, he drew his right arm back, preparing a mighty swing when a heavy force slammed into his exposed side.

The tremendous impact sent him hurtling through the air, driving him through walls of glass and metal within one of the many glistening towers that surrounded them. After what felt to be an interminably long period of time, he finally came to a stop in a pile of glass and metal.

Struggling slightly in an attempt to regain his bearings, Samael staggered to the edge of the building that he had crashed into. While not grievously wounded, it took a moment for him to regain his equilibrium.

Looking up, his eyes narrowed. Standing by Michael was another Seraph, whose twelve wings shone a brilliant white, in contrast to Michael's rich gold.

The angel, a woman, was flawless. Her golden hair tumbled over her shoulder, and—Samael shook his head. How the woman looked made no difference. She was a Seraph, a threat, who had openly attacked him.

Stretching his wings, he soared to where they hovered and arrived to hear Michael speaking.

"That was dangerous, Gabriel, but thank you. He is not fighting seriously yet, so use caution."

"Was Excalibur necessary for this, Michael? Is he truly that much of a threat?" Gabriel asked, her voice concerned.

Samael grinned in his bloodlust at the worry in her tone. Was he a threat? Was he dangerous? If she was so uncertain, then she must need a demonstration. This was perfect for him. His grin was short lived, however, and his rage returned tenfold as Michael turned to the newly arrived angel.

The sound of metal scraping reached his ears, as the Archangel drew another sword from his back, giving the blade to Gabriel. "That he is, sister. That is why I want you to use this."

Samael gasped, then growled audibly at the sight of the gleaming blade. Ascalon. Ascalon, the dragon slayer. He had borne witness to all that had happened, and still Michael forced his dragon nature in his face. It was beyond insult, as a source of his loathing was sought as the source of his undoing.

His vision tinted red as he watched both angels turn to him, raising the holy swords in readiness for their next attack.

No.

He had not suffered all of those years to be defeated by Seraphim who were leading Heaven in place of a dead God.

No. It couldn't happen. It _wouldn't_ happen.

"The treachery of the Seraphim, if this is the path you wish to take, so be it," he snarled. Realizing what had to be done, he knew that as there was no more avoiding his destiny, rather he would embrace it fully.

Samael would destroy Heaven. He would do so using everything the Holy One had had placed with and within him. Samael would never believe this to be irony, rather God's nature come full circle as his rage and malice destroyed what was left of his benevolence.

God had made a mistake, leaving Samael alive. The malice and aggression that had been shed to make him was only a part of the story of his actuality. A part that not only would come to light, but would usher in the darkness that would become Heaven.

Glaring at the two angels across from him, Samael placed his hands together in front of him and quietly began to chant.

"From light, there is darkness. From purity, there is impurity. From compassion, there is mercilessness. Unmoving, unyielding, the judgment of the Accuser takes shape. Impartial, unblemished, the will of the Seducer gains form. Undeniable, unrelenting, the rage of the Destroyer returns to the hand of it's host. Return to me, Kusanagi no Tsurugi!"

The area around Samael began to distort. Bellows, screams rent the silence of the realm, causing expressions of confusion and concern to cross Michael's and Gabriel's faces. The very atmosphere grated against itself, causing a thunderous roaring.

Seeing the looks of concern and confusion, Samael called out, "The Angel of Death, the Venom of God, titles for a being with purpose. My purpose was to purge, to reap, to claim the souls of those that were deemed impure as well as rid the world of the soulless. Not so simple a task as it sounds. However, the truth of life is the embrace of death.

"What no one knows is that the Holy One made a tool for such a job, one that could sustain the hatred— the enmity— inherent in the very nature of the Angel of Death. It couldn't be a holy sword, oh no, it could never have been tied to Him in such a way. It was what He called a 'divine' sword, a blade just like me—his malice, his aggression, his wrath made real. I had to hide it in quite an unusual place, as I suspected that he would try to mete out some form of punishment for his precious little humans. I am certain that Yamata no Orochi is feeling quite uncomfortable at the moment."

As he finished speaking, the distortion in front of him ripped open with a loud roar, and a blinding light made both Gabriel and Michael cover their eyes.

Once it had dimmed, both turned to see Samael standing tall, a calmed look on his face as he held a long, shimmering, silver blade in his hand. Staring at it reverently for a few tense moments, the Angel of Death—in his stolen body—suddenly burst towards them, raising back and swinging his blade with all of his might.

 **XXXXXX**

Gabriel groaned as she climbed out of the rubble of what had been one of the research buildings. Peering to her sides, she saw that almost the entirety of Fifth Heaven lay in smoldering ruins. Stunned, she knew that to say that Samael was strong was one thing, but when he used Kusanagi no Tsurugi, he was absolutely devastating.

Michael had told her about this blade, many years ago. She had been stunned to learn that it wasn't a holy sword, rather a _divine_ one. The difference had been in how God had formed it, as it had been made for one that he had kept from the other Seraphs, to maintain their purity. There hadn't been much more detail than that, but it was clear now that the sword was a far darker tool than Excalibur, or even the Ascalon in her hand.

Shaking the dust and debris from her wings, she looked up to where Samael and Michael were locked in battle. Loud metal clangs rang like thunder at each strike, and the auras of both beings felt like an ocean of pressure, nearly giving the atmosphere itself a texture. Their battle was savage, with even Michael showing a ferocity that she hadn't seen since the Great War.

Spreading her wings and taking flight, she streaked across the sky towards the pair. Fierce or not, Gabriel couldn't let Michael fight this battle on his own. Her chest was tight with guilt, remorse for allowing this to happen and sorrow for what she knew had to happen now. She and Michael would have to do it— they would have to kill Ichigo.

Her sorrow was in a battle of its own, however, with a feeling that she had seldom—if ever—experienced before.

Anger. Pure, righteous fury flooded her mind and colored her thoughts crimson.

Though she hadn't truly known Samael before, nor did she envy his lot in life, the Angel of Death had transgressed too far. He had possessed an innocent. A pure human who had already sacrificed much in his short life, was being used to launch an assault upon her home.

She had learned so much about the young man, and knew that a legacy of the pain, the destruction he was being forced to cause would destroy him.

Kisuke Urahara had been more than helpful when she had searched for answers after the shinigami war, and she knew that Ichigo had dedicated every fiber of his being to preserve life, to protecting.

The injustice disgusted her, and the sight of so many hurt in his aftermath sparked her ire so greatly that she could not repress the smirk of satisfaction as Michael scored a significant strike against the dragon-like leg of Samael.

The lack of blood erupting from the wound was not something that she expected, yet she saw him stumble. Where was the wound? Excalibur was incomparable when it came to holy swords, not to mention the power of Ruler, so what had happened? Still, she had seen the blade cut him, so that had to count for something, did it not?

Beating her wings faster, Gabriel knew that she would do everything that she could to end this fight quickly and decisively. Ichigo deserved better than what he had received, but it seemed that Samael had taken full possession of his body.

Both saddened and angered by the thought, she knew that she would do all that she could to protect what was left of his legacy….even if that meant killing him.

Finally arriving to where they were battling, Gabriel increased her speed, extending her arm and connecting her fist—along with every ounce of strength that she could muster—to the unsuspecting side of Samael's face.

 **XXXXXX**

Anger.

Hatred.

Jealousy.

Ichigo's existence was a blind maelstrom of rage. Malcontent was air, fury was blood, envy his very substance. There was no sight, simply a crimson haze. The only sounds were Samael's whispers of anger.

He loathed every second of it.

What was happening? His consciousness felt clouded, weighed down as if oppressed. He had no will, no want, simply the flood of power and emotions that made him a visitor within his own body.

He felt wrong, yet he couldn't even say that he 'felt' anything. He simply felt as if he existed. It was familiar, uncomfortably so. Where, where had he felt this before? When had he felt so lost and overcome by such severe feelings? Memories were beyond his grasp, taunting his impotence as they danced only just beyond comprehension.

 _Impossible!_

 _Arrogant bastards_

 _Pious coward_

 _Destroy_

 _Destroy them all!_

Thoughts, extreme emotions whispered across his awareness. They felt so intimate, so much like his own thoughts that he had trouble distinguishing between them. He only knew that he was feeling desires to fight, to hurt, to destroy everything in his path and consume the world in flames.

 _No_

The word, that one word, was Ichigo's lifeline to sanity. He didn't know how, and he didn't know why, but he had to refuse. He couldn't reason out the meaning behind his insistence, but he held on with what meager strength that he had to it.

His problem was that the strength was waning. Samael had him well within his grasp, so much so that Ichigo could barely tell his existence from his 'Sacred Gear's', whatever that was. The only true offensive that he could mount was yelling at the top of his lungs to the darkness that engulfed him. His thoughts were cut off, however, by a massive wave of power surging through everything that he knew.

The power was monstrous, and it's essence felt even more so. If it was possible, even more aggression, hatred, and malice emanated from the new source of power. It felt to be an extension of Samael's presence, a continuation of his dominating aura.

 _At last!_

 _Burn! Burn! Feel the wrath which you so callously scorned! Recognize what the Creator could not!_

The voices, so spiteful and angry before, were now excited and eager, bloodlust dripping from the words. Why? Why so excited? What had changed? Whatever it was, the energy surrounding and inhabiting him thrummed and surged.

 _No_

The word came easier now. Whatever this increase in energy was, whatever the added bloodlust meant had to be bad. Ichigo could barely focus at all, but the word kept him attached to himself.

 _No, protect…_

It was infuriating! He was so close to…something! Anything! Everything felt just beyond his reach, only just out of his grasp. The surges of raw power were still overwhelming, seeming intent on keeping him imprisoned within his own mind. However, the voice in his mind changed when a searing flare of pain registered so deeply within Samael that even Ichigo could feel it.

" _Come to me."_

Ichigo felt—something. Be it shock, surprise, wonder, he wasn't sure, all he knew was that he _felt._ The sensation that had just passed through him had seemingly awoken yet another voice, yet it was one he had never heard. The voice was powerful, calling to him in a manner that made him feel compelled to respond.

" _Come to—"_

The words were cut off as he felt an incredibly jarring impact. As if a switch had been flipped, Ichigo suddenly felt everything. Samael's anger and jealousy still burned voraciously through him, trying to devour his will, yet there was now so much more.

Pain was the dominant feeling. His body ached from his burning feet to his incredibly sore jaw. He still couldn't see anything at the moment, however. He could feel himself moving, his arms swinging what felt to be a sword in mighty strikes. Whatever he was striking had to be taking a beating, as the power that was surging through the blade in his hands turned out to be the source of the massive wave he had felt just moments ago.

" _Come to me! Come and find your peace, poor soul."_

The voice was far more insistent as another flare, this one more potent, surged through his body. The sensation wasn't a cut, but as if his entire body had been struck with a hammer. He felt Samael's anger rise, as it seemed that whatever happened had affronted him greatly.

The strongest strikes that he had yet felt his body delivered were soon dealt, a loud clash alerting him to a successful attack, yet it was soon overridden by a piercing pain in his side. It began like the prick of a needle, yet a blistering, scorching sensation quickly lit his nerves. The pain was excruciatingly specific, as if creating a map of agony within his nerves so intimate that it was attacking him specifically.

His own anger spiked, as did Samael's and his arm snapped out, gripping whatever was in front of him quite violently. Whatever had just happened, it was trying to destroy _him._

No. His anchor, the word that had helped him hold onto sanity was now his mantra. No, this would not happen. Whatever was going on, he would not let it stand. He would take back control. He would take his body back, and stop whatever it was that was happening to him, that he had—

—done?

The moment he thought the word, another sharp pain erupted in his chest and his eyes suddenly became _his._ Bright light filled his eyes, yet it soon cleared. Smoke was swirling all around him, and he snapped his head to each side, his eyes widening in horror at the scene around him.

It looked like a war zone, far too much like the one he had left only days ago. Buildings lay in ruin, fires still burning in many as smoke billowed from them. The entire area looked as if it had been razed nearly to the ground, a testament to the furious voice that he heard in his mind.

 _No! I will not accept this, not when I am so close!_

Feeling a twitch in his arm, Ichigo's attention turned forward. His eyes widened once more in revulsion. His hand was wrapped tightly around the neck of a beautiful blonde woman with several white wings sprouting from her back. Her eyes were wide, panic, fear and sadness in her gaze.

The woman's face was turning purple as she struggled for air, her free hand doing all that it could to pry his claw like fingers from her throat while the other was pushing a sword into his torso. The blade had barely pierced his skin, only the very tip, but it was clear that it was no normal sword if it could create the pain that it did.

Ichigo could not quell the overwhelming fury that he felt at the blade. It consumed his consciousness as for some inexplicable reason, its presence seemed to mock his very existence. The sword was an insult, a degradation of his very nature, and it burned in his mind. This stick, this mere trinket of a time long past repulsed him and made him want to destroy the shards, shoving them down his enemies throats.

As if that weren't enough, a glowing…playing card?…was sticking out of his chest. He could feel a strong pull from the card, making him feel bound, imprisoned. A will, separate from his own, was pulling him much like the sword that Michael was using.

Seeing the letter 'J' on the corner, his shared fury rocketed to new heights. Whatever this was, it was an attempt to enslave him, it had to be! As if the words were being fed to him, he bellowed, "You dare try to subjugate me?! You dare to try and relegate me to such an existence as to be your servant?! I will paint your brother in your blood for this!"

 _Wait, what?!_

The thoughts were not his own, and yet they were. It was beyond confusing, yet another jerk on his arm reminded him that he was still grasping the woman's throat. Gasping in shock, he released his hand and she deeply gasped, dragging precious air into her lungs and dropping the sword she held. The card also shot out from his chest, disappearing into the air with a burst of light. However, after only a few gasps, he felt his hand reach back out and grasp her neck.

The grip was even stronger this time. Ichigo was panicking, feeling his control slipping once more. The voice in his mind was roaring now, demanding blood. His hand gripped tighter, the woman's eyes bulging at the immense pressure that he was putting on her. Her strikes against his arm, though immeasurably strong, were useless against his current power .

"Stop!" Ichigo growled, trying to fight the pressure in his left arm. The grip was firm, unyielding no matter how hard he struggled. "I said stop! Now! You're going to kill her!"

 _That is the point! She stabbed you! Did you not feel it? Her blade is meant to kill dragons, and no matter how much either of us loathe it, the blood of dragons runs in our veins. She also tried to make you her slave! That card could only have been meant to make your her puppet, a mere tool in her arsenal! Kill her! The truth of life is the embrace of death! She is no different from any other angel, she deserves it!_

"N-No!" Ichigo stammered, faltering under the added pressure. It seemed that Samael was concentrating as much of his will as possible on the arm around her neck. Who was this woman? What could she have possibly done to deserve this?!

 _It doesn't matter!_ he thought to himself in growing hysteria. Who cared who she was or what she had done? He couldn't kill her! He was a protector, he was a warrior, he was supposed to preserve life, not end it! He couldn't strangle a woman to death, no matter what she had done!

 _You have no choice, young one. You will learn what it means to be the Angel of Death,_ Samael declared in his mind.

Ichigo began to lose his composure as the woman's struggle was weakening. He could see her face turning blue, and could feel her movements becoming sluggish. No! He couldn't…he wouldn't…

 _Accept your fate. Sacred Gear or no, you will not impose your weak will on me. You will learn, and you will share my role. You will not escape this,_ the angry voice said again.

Panic was all Ichigo knew. This couldn't happen, not when he still had breath in his body. Desperate for any idea, he looked to his right hand. In it, there was a pulsing, unbelievably powerful sword. It was shaped like a katana, and radiated a potent cocktail of power, hatred and aggression. The blade glimmered in the light, giving evidence to how razor sharp it was.

Without hesitation, Ichigo raised the sword and sliced off his left arm.

 **XXXXXX**

Kisuke watched in horrified wonder at the scene before him. Fifth Heaven was alight in blazing destruction, Michael was picking himself up from a pile of rubble with a large gash across his chest, and he had just watched Ichigo cut his own arm off with a sword that's power exceeded quite a few captain's bankai's.

This was shaping up to be one of the strangest days he had experienced in a long time. Yet, as he watched Ichigo and Samael writhing in pain at the lost limb, he spotted his opportunity.

"Isshin, get Gabriel to Michael! If I am right, she should be alright within a minute or two, but everyone needs to get clear of Ichigo, go!"

The elder Kurosaki responded with a simple grunt and disappeared, flashing to where the blonde angel was still gasping for air in the sky. Lifting her gently, he flashed down to where Michael was standing. He couldn't help the smirk that formed as the halos that Michael had left for them provided the same abilities as he would have in a reiatsu rich environment. Seeing that Isshin had explained the situation to the Archangel, he removed a long cylinder from within his jacket.

It wasn't perfect, or at least what he had in mind for a finished product. He unsealed the cylinder, removing a brightly glowing blade. It contained the reiatsu of every shinigami that he could get to assist him after Ichigo escaped. The Visoreds, Yoruichi, Tessai, Isshin, even a few of the captains had supplied him with reiatsu.

If Ichigo was at a disadvantage against Samael, which it seemed that he was as the Hogyoku was clearly flickering weakly within his chest, it would only be fair for him to help even the odds. Flashing to a position behind the writhing Ichigo, Kisuke sprinted towards his back, only to slide at the last second between his legs.

Coming to a stop immediately in front of him, Kisuke stood and turned, instantly stabbing Ichigo in the chest with the glowing blade. For a moment, nothing happened, and the only sounds were the crackling of a multitude of fires.

The stillness was then shattered by an enormous explosion of reiatsu that completely obliterated what was left of the buildings directly beneath and around Ichigo. Fluid burst from the stump of his arm, and he knew that the hogyoku had awakened. Breathing in relief, even as he was sent tumbling through the air, Urahara almost instantly gasped in panic as his plan began to go wrong, beginning with the agonized screams of pain from Ichigo.

 **XXXXXX**

Gabriel watched in wonder from her position next to Michael and Ichigo's father as Ichigo himself staggered in pain so far above them. He was still in there! No matter what Samael had done, no matter the power he held, Ichigo was still alive!

Her heart clenched at the memory of his eyes. The moment that he had awakened, his jet black, serpentine eyes had changed to brown human ones. The horror, the absolute disgust that she had seen in them became a heavy burden on her heart. Such an innocent being was having his mind and heart torn apart by an ancient grudge, and it had almost caused him to kill her.

Yet, Ichigo had stopped it. She saw the panic in his eyes, the conflict when he was trying to release her. Knowing nothing of her, or even why he had been fighting, he had tried to release her. Though he had seen her trying to push a blade into his body, he had cut off his own arm, simply to save her from death.

Rubbing her throat, though she had healed she would not soon forget the pain of nearly being strangled to death. She scolded herself for having given him the chance. When she had seen the tip of Ascalon enter his body and cause him to seize, Gabriel had thought that she had finally stopped him long enough to counter.

What a mistake that had been.

Not only did she infuriate Samael further by stabbing him, but she had sent him beyond the edge of sanity by trying to make him her Joker. The brave saint system was something that she thought could have worked to rescue Ichigo, but it turned out that the combination of Ichigo and Samael was far too much for a Joker card to handle, and she paid dearly for it.

Her attention was drawn as the man she had just recently met leapt high into the air and—stabbed Ichigo in the chest?! She made to leap after him, but was held back by Michael. This proved fortunate as a tidal wave of spiritual pressure erupted and annihilated every building within half a mile. The pressure was so great that all three who watched had to struggle to brace themselves where they stood.

"Brother, what is happening?" she asked, turning to look at the solemn faced Michael.

"Kisuke is trying to restore Ichigo's reiatsu, to allow the Hogyoku to balance out the powers in his soul", he responded quietly as they watched a new arm materialize.

 _The powers in his soul?_ Something about the thought was wrong. It felt incomplete, but she could not put her finger on what was out of balance. However, the answer would come later as she heard heart wrenching screams of agony from where Ichigo was. Without hesitation, she spread her wings and flew to where he was.

She could not allow him further pain. Ichigo had faced so much, but he was still fighting! His actual nature, the protecting warrior, still fought to protect, to preserve life. Gabriel knew beyond any doubt that she would sooner end her own life than let such a person suffer a fate so cruel without offering help.

Upon arrival, however, her stomach lurched at the sight before her. Ichigo's arms, once covered in lightly tanned skin, were now dissolving before her eyes. The skin, as well as the muscle beneath, were being eaten away at an alarming rate, only to slowly regenerate as the shiny orb in his chest flickered wildly.

"Kisuke!" he bellowed, "What did you—Agh!" His words were cut off by a guttural bellow of pain, yet he worked to get to his feet.

Gabriel watched as he held onto his blade tightly and stood again, only to hunch over in pain. Unable to help herself, she moved forward, reaching out to find some way to comfort him. A sharp whistle alerted her to a sword whipping past her head, only just missing her face. Though Ichigo was in excruciating pain, Samael clearly still held sway and saw her as a threat.

Unable to react in time, she saw the blade coming again as the returning Kisuke began to draw his own. Before either could meet the attack, the blade stopped mere inches from Gabriel's face. The shimmering sword was vibrating violently, but did not move further.

"K-Kill me," Ichigo whispered in a voice that gave evidence to the monstrous struggle to hold the blade at bay.

Gabriel's eyes widened in shock at the words. Surely not? Ichigo must still be possessed by Samael, as it was he who was—

"Hurry up, damn it…I can't hold him back any longer…kill me." The voice was weaker, this time, barely a whisper.

"Ichigo?! No, I can't—"

"Don't be stupid, I don't want to hurt you anymore. Look at what I've done…what I've become…just…just kill me before I do any more…please…"

The words tore viciously at her heart. He was in there! The hero, the young man who done so much in his short life was begging her to kill him simply to keep her and others from getting hurt. Unable to speak, she simply shook her head to say 'no' as tears fell from her eyes.

Gabriel was strong, the strongest woman in Heaven. In the face of this, strength was not enough. A hero was being forced to watch as his legacy was etched into the very landscape of Heaven. A legacy of pain, of destruction, of annihilation. Ichigo had led a life of sacrifice, a life purely for others.

 _How could fate be so cruel to one so pure?!_

She had no time to find out, as the orb in his chest shuddered roughly, causing the power that he was projecting to flicker before his eyes rolled into the back of his head. The next moment, he was plummeting to the ground which was no longer there.

Gabriel's thoughts halted and she immediately reached into the pocket of her robe to retrieve something, then took off after him. Pinning her wings back, she streaked through the sky desperate to catch the falling Ichigo. Quickly looking to her hand, she knew that what she was about to do was a risk. A terrible risk. A risk that could alter the very future of the world.

A risk that she was willing to take to save a hero.

 **XXXXXX**

Michael had launched himself after Ichigo as soon as his sister was nearly beheaded. However, he heard the words from the boy's lips and began to fly faster, only to see him suddenly fall from the sky. Unable to catch him, Michael watched as Ichigo plummeted past him towards the series of holes that he had made.

Turning to check on his sister before pursuing Ichigo, he was stunned to see Gabriel flying incredibly fast after the falling intruder. He was about to leave her to it when he saw something in her hand that caused his breath to hitch.

In her hand was a playing card with a blue star that housed the letter 'K'.

Understanding dawned with unnerving clarity. She was going to try and make him a— _"Gabriel, No!"_

Seeing the two disappear beneath the surface of Fifth Heaven, he bellowed as he plummeted in rapid pursuit, making to follow them through the hole when an incomprehensibly powerful wave of power erupted, casting him backwards away from the roughly made entrance in a fiery rush.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Wow! Thank you all who have supported this story thus far! I am grateful for the reception, the follows, favorites and reviews and hope you continue to enjoy. I will have a bit more detailed A/N at the end. (2/18/2016)**

 **You know the drill: Read, review, but most importantly...Enjoy!**

The door shutting quietly behind him, Michael rubbed his temples vigorously as he sat with a huff.

Days like today were burdens on him, both in body and spirit.

He felt old. Chaos, pain, wanton destruction, and revelations that shook the very balance of power in the world made him feel each and every year that he had existed.

After more than a century of little-to-no activity, how could so much happen in such short time? The Heavenly Dragons make their generation's appearance and align with the Fallen Angels and Devils, only for Samael to arise, trapped as a Sacred Gear inside of one of the most purely good beings that he had known.

Then, Gabriel goes and makes a decision that— Michael sighed at the thought.

Of course, all of that couldn't be enough. No, this all had to transpire within one of Amaterasu's subjects.

Michael groaned yet again in exasperation. Of all places for the person to be from, why Japan?

While generally benevolent, Japan's leading deity had quite the legendary temper when her territory or subjects were interfered with by other factions. He still grimaced when he remembered what she did to Susanoo, her brother.

Though it never made it into Shinto legends, the beating that she gave him over her rice fields had nearly destroyed the entire chain of islands that make up Japan. That was with family. Now one of her greatest warriors was the actual embodiment of the evil wrath and venom of the biblical God…

"This has to be a bad dream," he muttered to himself, flicking his wrist and summoning a glass of wine onto the long, wooden table at which he was seated.

Something told him that one would not be nearly enough, not after a day like today.

Michael was still a fervent believer, follower and practitioner of the teachings of kindness, love and benevolence from his departed Lord. He treasured each and every gift the Holy Father had imparted, yet he was currently most thankful for the dimensional rooms that he and his research team had created.

Looking around the luxuriously decorated room, he sighed. The rich, dark colors of the walls and furniture, as well as the wonderfully relaxing chairs seemed to be a mockery of his current situation. Though well over a century, it felt that it had not been long enough since he had been forced to use them in such a manner.

Rooms, sometimes entire buildings, where the rules governing what could cause an angel to fall were suspended. What a breakthrough! Michael had never used these rooms for ill purposes—of course —rather important and untraceable meetings were the only uses he had for them.

 _No, no negative uses at all,_ he thought, staring at the crimson liquid.

He could do this. He could have wine without having to get drunk. No matter how much he may want to escape the sheer insanity that had been his day—even if for but a moment— he wouldn't give the others the satisfaction.

The others. It would be interesting to see their reactions to the news. Sirzechs, Serafall, and Azazel often shared this very room with him when things went wrong. Though their public interactions and perceptions were frigid at best, they secretly met on numerous occasions to discuss current events and movements.

It was vital, they discovered, to keep back channels open for communication between them. Though many within each faction would condemn it, having a chance to speak openly with the other leaders was not only immensely helpful, it was often cathartic.

Michael had learned long ago that the world of a leader was something far removed from what it appeared to be. The impossible decisions, harsh realities, and the unyielding stress of being charged with the fate of so many was a life that offered little reprieve.

Speaking with others of a like mind was something he was truly thankful for.

Finishing his drink, he chuckled humorlessly as he knew that if he were truly honest with himself, he was currently using the room a little more selfishly, enjoying the slight numbing sensation of the wine. He would make no apologies, as he needed something, anything to help him endure what was still to come.

As if on cue, the door creaked opened.

"…she seemed like a nice girl, but I have to tell you, even my _feathers_ itched the next day. Odin laughed his ass off for a week when he heard about it, crazy old bastard. I know our vision is supposed to be great, but after that many drinks, I wasn't really in the best condition to be—Oh, sorry there, sunshine. Just talking about things that would turn even your feathers black," Azazel said with a chuckle and barely a brief glance at the Archangel.

Wearing his usual simple, dark ensemble, the Governor General of the Grigori gave an irreverent grin as he entered, talking over his shoulder through the opened door.

Following closely behind, Sirzechs was dressed in an elegant dark grey suit and shaking his head indulgently. The smile on his lips made Michael quite glad that he had not heard the previous conversation.

Trailing behind both—pinching the bridge of her nose— was Serafall, dressed in her usual childish 'Magical Girl' outfit. However, the look on her face seemed to agree with Michael's desire of avoiding the Governor-General's antics and sordid tales.

"I am certainly glad that we keep the details of these meetings between us. I fear that, should Grayfia hear what you do to these women—not to mention what you take with you—that even I would face her wrath. At least we don't have to worry about Michael participating in any such debauchery, right Mi—uh oh," Sirzechs replied in amusement, trailing off as he turned to actually face Michael.

Seeing him quickly draining a glass of wine, Sirzechs felt apprehensive.

"What do you mean, uh oh? What's wro—ah, damn. We're going to need some of the good stuff, aren't we?" Azazel muttered, finally fully seeing what his devil counterpart was referring to.

Taking a good look at the Archangel of Heaven, the sight of singed clothes with splotches of blood on them put him instantly on alert.

"Michael-chan! You're bleeding!", Serafall shouted, slightly pushing Sirzechs out of the way to come to Michael's side.

Azazel chuckled in exasperation. "Would you look at that? It still never ceases to amaze me. A devil concerned with the well being of an angel. Times sure have changed, huh?"

"Don't listen to him and his nonsense," Serafall grumbled as she poked her tongue out at the fallen angel.

It was well known to the men gathered that she had secretly—and to them, somewhat inexplicably—seen Michael as something of a kind, big brother for centuries now. Though it only seemed to exacerbate the rivalry between her and Gabriel, the current Leviathan always enjoyed Michael's company.

"Life as a big brother must be an interesting one, eh Michael? Even an pseudo-adopted one," Azazel joked once more, chuckling at the faces Serafall made.

"While I am sure that you're having fun, Azazel, what happened to you, Michael? I haven't seen you like this in ages. You would think that someone had attacked Heaven, judging by the way you look," Sirzechs said, eyes wide as he looked at one of the stronger beings that he knew.

For someone to be able to make Michael look like this, it must be bad.

Setting his glass down with a sharp _'chink'_ , Michael waved it full again with a humorless chuckle. "Please, sit. Have yourselves a drink, if you'd like."

The looks of unease grew amounts all present as they sat across from each other at the table. A few waves later, glasses and drinks appeared and each took a tentative sip. The tension within the room was mounting, and finally Azazel spoke.

"Alright, Michael, what's going on?"

Turning to Azazel, Michael answered, "Before we begin, I must ask you a few things. First, though it is always unsaid in our meetings, I must insist that the words of this meeting be kept in the utmost of confidence. Do I have your word on this?"

All three nodded, concern etched on their faces as they looked at Michael.

"Thank you. Second, I must ask that you all be completely honest. We have things to discuss that cannot be handled with deceit and trickery. Do I have your word that you will both be honest with me, as I will be with you?"

Sirzechs and Azazel tensed, while Serafall grimaced. Looking across the table to each other, a look of understanding passed between them, and each sighed softly.

"Yes, Michael. We will be completely honest with you, as it seems that you already have answers to some of the questions you will be asking", Sirzechs answered softly.

Michael knew that they were expecting unpleasant news.

 _Who am I to disappoint?_ he thought sardonically.

It seemed to be their way, each telling the other something vague to prepare their minds before actually saying anything of substance. He found that it made the shock of whatever was told much more bearable.

He could only hope that to be the case, this time.

A knock at the door elevated the already tangible strain within the room. _No one_ was supposed to know of this room, outside of the three already within. Two of the three men in the room turned, hands curling in preparation for whatever could be behind the door while Serafall gripped her wand.

"Come in," Michael called to their obvious astonishment.

When the door opened, two more men walked in. One was dark haired and dressed in black robes, a white sash of some sort tied around his arm and a sword at his hip. The other was blonde haired and wearing green, with a striped bucket hat on his head who was armed similarly.

"Sirzechs Lucifer, Maou of the Underworld, Serafall Leviathan, Maou of the Underworld, and Azazel, Governor General of the Grigori, I would like you to meet Isshin Kurosaki and Kisuke Urahara, both former captains within the Shinigami's guardian contingent."

"You know Shinigami?" Azazel asked, relaxing his hand and returning it to his glass. His eyes, however, narrowed warily.

Shinigami were barely more than myths in the supernatural world, just a name thrown around when speaking of Japan. Little to nothing was known of their movements, and even less about their strength.

It was rare to meet one, usually an experience only had by the older echelons of the supernatural. Azazel had only met one, himself.

Amaterasu had always been adamant about keeping her universe apart from the rest of the world's pantheons, so for a pair of their top warriors to be present in a meeting like this was highly disconcerting.

"Captains, too. I never thought you'd be such a rebel, Michael. I would say it's nice to meet you guys, but given the way that Michael looks—and the fact that you guys are pretty damn mysterious to the rest of us— I'm going to hold onto that particular pleasantry."

"I cannot help but agree," Sirzechs added, his brow raised in suspicion. "Though I wish you no ill will, I cannot see your arrival in such a fashion as a token of good news."

Serafall remained silent, her only movement to lower her wand.

Both of the new arrivals sat down with loud sighs. "Believe me, this hasn't been a day for good news. We're here because we're attached to what happened," the dark haired Isshin grunted, with Kisuke taking a bottle and some saucers out of his robe.

"Now that everyone is here, we can begin," Michael said, bringing attention back to him. Turning to the leaders of the other factions, he spoke.

"Serafall, and particularly Sirzechs and Azazel, is there any news that you would like to share, before I divulge mine? Any new developments within your respective factions that I should know about?"

An exasperated chuckle broke the silence. "You never were good at the whole 'cloak-and-dagger' thing, Michael," Azazel said with a grin before continuing.

"Yeah, I've got the Hakuryuukou. He's a devil, but that never really mattered to me. Name's Vali. He's a bit of a bonehead, but I suppose there are worse types out there."

Resting his chin on his steepled fingers, Sirzechs added, "And as I am sure that you are well aware, the Sekiryuutei—a boy named Issei Hyodou—has been reincarnated as a devil by my dear Rias. Is this your way of breaking the news that you've filled another card? Already holding the Zenith Tempest wielder, it must be someone impressive."

Swirling the wine in his glass, Michael looked up with a brief, but kind smile at being caught. He hadn't been trying particularly hard to fool them, but it was still encouraging to know that his words were being heard.

The smile quickly faded as he spoke, "Yes, I knew, but I wanted to hear the words from you both. Thank you for your candor. As far as my holdings, my cards remain the same. My purpose for bringing you here today is to talk about a new development. One that will no doubt affect us all. You were right in your assessment, Heaven was attacked today."

Raised brows from the faction leaders gave Michael indication that he was stating the obvious.

"I know that you deduced that on your own, but I ask that you bear with me. This story is long, and quite convoluted. You see, it actually all started with the end of the Shinigami war…"

 **XXXXXX**

Ichigo awoke with a gasp.

Pain still wracking his body, confusion quickly swarmed his mind. His vision was blurred, and his chest felt as if it was on fire. The nerves in his limbs were alight with sensation, his whole body tingling in discomfort, yet he could feel nothing specific about his body aside from his chest.

Not his hands, nor his arms, his legs, nothing. The disorientation was frightening, the lack of anything discernible crushing him with a sense of suffocation.

Yet, the one thing that he could not deny that he felt was power. Undeniable, inconceivable power. Even more so than when he had used his final Getsuga Tensho, Ichigo felt power overwhelming him in sporadic waves as if an raging ocean, carelessly tossing his very being. Opening his eyes further, he could only make out fuzzy shapes.

 _Was it all a dream?_

Blinking furiously, Ichigo tried to make sense of what was going on. Ever since he had arrived in the Underworld, his memories had been scattered, nearly impossible to recall. He remembered seeing fire, buildings consumed by bright flames and spewing smoke into the sky. He remembered speaking to someone with gold feathers, a blonde woman who—

 _The woman!_

The memory of the woman, the one who he had almost strangled with his bare hand, cut off his stream of thought in a sudden eruption of panic. Her face instantly consumed his thoughts, forcing his mind to begin tearing itself apart in search of answers.

It hadn't been a dream! He remembered the feeling of her throat in his hand. Her face had turned blue, her struggles had weakened. Had he killed her? Had he?!

However, before he could find the answer, a voice within his mind erupted in anger.

 _Betrayers! Dead…Gone…He cannot be gone…_

"No!" he shouted, his eyes clearing somewhat as he whipped his head violently back and forth in an attempt to silence the voice.

The memories were fuzzy, dancing just out of reach of his grasp. Still whipping his head, he heard links of chain clinking together.

Looking to his right, he blanched as he saw that his hands—he turned and saw that both of them—were stretched and bound in golden chains that suspended him mid air.

His panic finally overwhelmed him, his body feeling trapped, overriding his ability to think. He was being held against his will, he may have killed a woman, and the fact that he was being bound in chains made him think that it was likely the case.

 _Did I kill her?!_

 _Liars! Destroy them all!_

Ichigo began to thrash, the chains clinking loudly in protest, but holding strong. He had to get free, he had to get himself out and find out if it was true. He had to _know._

 _Kill them! Release me, and kill them!_

The voice in his mind was crazed, lost beyond reason. It was too close to how he felt, to how little of a hold he had over himself. Losing control, he began struggling in earnest. "No! No! No!"

 _I can't be, I can't be a murderer, I can't!_

 _Rend their heads from their pious bodies! Burn the world to ash!_

"Silence!" a voice shouted.

His attention snapping forward, Ichigo paused as he saw a tall man with dark hair and a golden halo above his head striding towards him. The man wore a pure white robe, with seemingly whiter wings raised behind his back. He looked grim, his eyes searching Ichigo in caution.

"Be silent, creature. You are going nowhere."

Unable to comprehend what was happening, Ichigo opened his mouth to speak once more, yet a grunt was all that was heard as the man brutally punched Ichigo in the stomach.

"I ordered you to be silent!"

Rage, raw malice surged throughout Ichigo, warring with his panic. He grit his teeth, trying everything that he could to maintain some manner of coherence. Control was slipping, his vision blurring to red. Despair, disgust, horror and bloodlust impaired his thinking. His mind was clouding, voices and desires clashing in a vicious battle.

 _You coward, you dare to call me 'creature'?!_

 _Is the woman still hurt?!_

 _You dare to imprison and strike me?! All angels will perish!_

 _Did I actually kill her?!_

 _Silence! She is a Seraph, she deserved what she received!_

 _WHERE IS SHE?_

Beginning to thrash again, Ichigo bellowed, "Where is she?! You betrayers! Is she alive?! Free me!"

On and on, he screamed his voice hoarse as he pulled against the chains with all of his might. His back suddenly alit in fire, the sensation matching the searing heat of his chest as some kind of wind buffeted him back and forward within his prison.

Even so, nothing made sense, nothing mattered, only the desires that tore at his soul.

He had to get free. He had to know. He had to destroy. He had to…he simply had to…

"Graaahhhhhh!"

His bellows hid the sound of a door opening, yet his eyes looked forward to see the man coming back at him, a heavy-looking piece of metal in his hand. The man strode forward with purpose, his arm lifting as if to strike.

"Uriel, no!" a voice screamed, a voice that broke through the madness, through the haze. The world was suddenly silent, nothing existing but one presence, one single entity.

His head turned, his eyes just catching sight of long blonde hair and wide blue eyes before everything fell dark.

 **XXXXXX**

Azazel set his glass down after yet another drink. The loud _chink_ of it hitting the table did little to combat the near-oppressive silence that was weighing on the room.

Quickly refilling it, he downed the contents even more swiftly. Not many things could cause him much stress, but the past half hour had ended up becoming one of the longest in his considerably long life.

Samael? Of all the things in all of the realms, Samael?! No, not just Samael—an absurdly powerful Seraph with the appropriate name of Angel of Death—but Samael sealed as a Sacred Gear within the betrayed hero of the Shinigami Winter War.

He remembered Samael from the old days, the days in which he had still been serving Heaven. Samael was a monster, a predator so powerful that he could almost twist the fabric of reality. Serving beside him had been an experience that he'd never forget.

 _Oh wait_ , Azazel thought to himself, _there's more! This Shinigami juggernaut bearing the Angel of Death is also equipped with the Hogyoku— A fascinating orb that can supposedly manifest the desires of those around it, not to mention provide regeneration abilities nearly unheard of in history! Oops, I forgot to mention that he also swam in the River Styx, and has been balanced out with a King card, a tool that has reincarnated the young Ichigo Kurosaki as a full-fledged Seraph, along with his mile-long list of other heritages and powers._

Oh, how he wished he could say that covered the extent of what all was going on.

"Damn, I feel old."

"I'm pretty sure that all of us do," Kisuke Urahara agreed.

Turning to him, Azazel couldn't help but grin. The former Shinigami captain was a man after his own heart. An all-but-certified mad scientist, it was his own creation that had stirred everything up.

"The question remains," Sirzechs interrupted, looking at Michael— who looked as if he had aged a millennia in the last half hour. "Just what do we do with him now? I cannot say that I have an answer prepared for this."

Azazel couldn't help but agree. Their tiptoeing into these secret meetings was nothing compared to the unrest that Samael's emergence would cause. "It's a pickle."

"It is a good question," Serafall added, taking a long drink from her glass.

Sighing, she set the glass down and continued. "I suppose I should let you know that Sona-chan has a Vritra-wielding pawn, as well. So now I really wonder: what exactly _can_ we do with Ichigo now?"

"Hey, what do you mean, 'What do we do with him now?'! This is my son you're talking about!", Isshin snapped, slamming his saucer onto the table and drawing the attention of all gathered.

"Isshin, after speaking with you today, I refuse to believe that you do not understand the circumstances," Michael began, turning to the man with a kind, but somber expression.

"No one here would discount the fact that he is your son, but he has become so much more than that. Your son had already reached near god-like heights of power during the war, but now he has the ability to literally change the world as we know it. He's bound to a possibly limitless source of power, and also bound to a quite literal manifestation of the rage, evil intent, and malice of our God. He cannot simply wander the world on his own, unaffiliated and undeclared. Not to mention that, even if he were to declare a side, he will immediately earn the enmity, fear, and scorn of many other races and factions."

Sirzechs drained another glass of wine, looking at the leaders surrounding the table as he set his cup down.

"Are we truly discussing this? This is _Samael_ that we are talking about. Samael, the Seducer, the Accuser, the Destroyer. Are these names ringing any bells? Not only that, but he was even able to—as a Sacred Gear—possess Ichigo and summon Kusanagi no Tsurugi. And you, Azazel, are you not worried about your newest acquisition catching his attention? The dragons will surely attract his notice, and do any of us want to witness that meeting?"

"Vali would definitely go looking for him," Azazel sighed, rubbing his temple.

Why? Why must things become so complicated? There was just too much going on, and too many idiots with power running around to be able to keep things as low-key as he would prefer.

"Not to mention," Sirzechs added, "What if he were convinced to join in one of these terrorist groups that we've heard about forming?"

"Isshin, they do have a point," Kisuke said quietly.

Before the elder Kurosaki could respond, he placed a hand on his arm. "Look, just take a second and think about it. Think about what would have happened if he had kept his powers after the war. What would have happened the moment they reinstated Central 46?"

Sighing loudly, Isshin pinched the bridge of his nose before replying. "I'm not stupid, I know that he's powerful, and I know that his life is going to change forever. What you all are doing is dancing around the issue. What's going to happen with my son? You guys aren't going to screw over my boy, I don't care who you are. His life has been hell enough, even before this, but he's _not_ going to just be sent to some executioners' block."

"Isshin, we are not planning on treating your son unfairly. Given what he has inspired in his brief life, we know that killing Ichigo would only serve to push those closest to him to war. The problem is, we do not know how much sway Samael still holds over Ichigo. It was all too clear that he was in full control until Gabriel punched him. We have Ichigo in holding until we can determine what his condition is, as well as what his intentions are," Michael answered.

"In holding?"

"He is being held in one of our cells, being watched over by Uriel, a Seraph. Raphael has been watching some, in-between helping with recovering the wounded. I called this meeting because I wanted us to have a chance to discuss this and develop a plan, as this would affect us all, especially given your new acquisitions."

"Fine, fine, I'll take him," Azazel interjected nonchalantly as he gazed at the drink he was swirling within its glass. All eyes turned to him, with each gathered giving looks of incredulity and confusion.

"What?" he asked, shrugging. "Samael is more likely to respond without hostility to me, and I'll be glad to help the kid learn about what it means to have a Sacred Gear."

"You want custody of Ichigo? This couldn't have anything to do with the fact that you're obsessed with Sared Gears, could it? Or maybe it's the fact that he destroyed Fifth Heaven?" Serafall asked, a knowing expression on her face.

"Heh," Azazel chuckled, leaning back with his arms behind his head. "I can't deny that I love that. I've been wanting to trash that place for centuries, so I'll owe him big time for that. Still, you guys know that Sacred Gears are my thing, and I think it's a better option than him rotting away in an Angel prison. I could teach him what it means to wield a Sacred Gear."

"Do not start with this, Azazel. He is not going to be another one to be added to your collection of Sacred Gear wielders. We are holding him until we can talk to him and find out what his status is. Anyway, after that, thanks to Gabriel's…intervention…Ichigo is going to find himself well and truly tied to Heaven. Given Samael's nature, it's not as though Ichigo would be able to fall," Michael said with a troubled look.

Azazel waved his hand, unconcerned. "Ah, keep your feathers on. You know damn well what I meant. I have nothing against the kid, and I wouldn't be bringing him into the Grigori. If you hadn't realized, he wouldn't exactly get along with some of my crowd."

Michael, Serafall and Sirzechs sighed as they nodded knowingly.

"What's with the looks? What is so bad about having Ichigo in Heaven? To be honest, from what I can gather it would be beneficial for Heaven to have someone of Ichigo's caliber in your corner. Not to mention, with the emergence of these two Heavenly dragons and another Dragon-King, the so-called Dragon Eater would be a damn good equalizer, wouldn't it?" Isshin interjected, curious at the expression on Michael's face.

Michael, now looking across the table with a kind look, laughed bitterly.

"I said _tied to_ Heaven, not _in._ I agree with your points, but you do remember what Heaven looks like now, right? It took a lot to get the rest of the Seraphim to leave him alive. Samael's return, and the state of Heaven at the moment was a bit too much for Uriel and Raphael to take. Aside from my direct orders, Gabriel was the one who was able to finally get them to relent. Her anger on behalf of Ichigo was a sight to behold, I must admit. I had forgotten that my sweet sister was capable of such fury."

Sirzechs leaned back with a commiserating sigh as Serafall crossed her arms, rolled her eyes and scoffed. Murmurs of "Bratty angel" could be heard amidst her general grumbling.

"They grow up too fast, don't they? My little Rias showed a similar fury in defense of some of her peerage choices. Sisters, they are just too precious, aren't they?"

"Sona sure is becoming a handful, I can agree," Serafall said, coming out of her pout long enough to talk of her beloved sister.

"You do realize that Gabriel has quite a few years on your little Rias and Sona, don't you?" Azazel said with a laugh.

However, the chuckles soon turned to shudders, "And believe me, that little Seraph can flip a switch and go from the sweetest, most innocent woman alive, to scarier than a demon in no time at all. Strongest woman in Heaven is no fluke of a name."

Silence, aside from more grumbling from Serafall, settled over the table at the comment.

"You tried to see her naked, didn't you?" Michael said, breaking the silence as he shook his head in exasperation.

It would seem that the Fallen Angel would never learn, his hormones always the predominate factor in his thinking. Sirzechs was amused, however, holding his hand over his mouth to try and stifle the laughter.

"Each time I think that it would be beneficial for us to include those such as Gabriel and Grayfia into these meetings, you open your mouth and make my decision for me, Azazel. Did you actually attempt to see her naked?"

Azazel's eyes were distant as he smiled. "I was close, too. Three more seconds and I would have been the luckiest man in Heaven. She must have heard me, though, because the instant I stepped through the doors of the baths she, well, let's just say that it took me a good while before I was…um…able to do anything that would cause me to fall."

All of the men at the table grimaced, though the lone woman couldn't contain a begrudging chuckle.

Isshin dragged his hand down his face. How was it that these people were the same as he, Kisuke, and Yoruichi? Any other day, he would love conversations like this, but with Ichigo's future so uncertain, it was starting to wear on his nerves.

 _Having to be the serious one sucks._

"While I'm glad to hear that Ichigo has someone like her watching over him, it doesn't really give me an acceptable answer as to what is going to happen with him. I need to know the who's, the what's, and the where's. Hell, my boy still hasn't even finished high school!"

"That is an issue, isn't it?", Sirzechs added with a contemplative hum. "Well then, why don't we talk to the boy himself? We can bring him here to keep our anonymity with our respective factions. If he is what you say he is, I can imagine that he will have some opinions on how his future should go."

Snorts from the two Shinigami at the end of the table drew the others' attention. Catching the others' questioning gazes, Kisuke simply replied, "Yeah, Ichigo will have an opinion or two."

Sending a curious glance to the faction leaders, who each shrugged, Michael retrieved a small, silver phone from his pocket and dialed.

 **XXXXXX**

 _You have no choice, young one. You will learn what it means to be the Angel of Death_

 _Accept your fate. Sacred Gear or no, you will not impose your weak will on me. You will learn, and you will share my role. You will not escape this._

… _.._

Soft taps on his skin caused Ichigo to stir from his feverish dreams.

Dreams that were too rich, too intimate. The visions plagued his senses, drawing him further and further into their realities the more he tried to pull away.

He was unable to focus on his immediate surroundings, as the dreams and words began to repeat themselves with maddening pace.

 _Accept your fate. You will not escape this._

 _Escape what?! What fate is it that I have to accept?_

The actual memories, themselves, were just beyond reach. The more he thought of them, the further they fell away.

Clenching his eyes against the bright light pressing on his eyelids, he took a deep breath, dragging a rush of dust in through his nose, registering a strange odor. Choking and coughing almost instantly, he rolled, coming up onto his knees as he continued to try and clear his lungs.

After what felt to be countless attempts, relief finally came and Ichigo opened his watery eyes, squinting at the bright light reflecting off of the ground.

Why was the ground so bright? No, not bright, but…well…bright? Slowly adjusting to the light, he began to notice a fine dust on his skin. Was that _snow_ covering his hands _?_

Lifting one, he watched as lightly colored flakes drifted lazily to the ground. Steadying himself with the other hand, he felt confused as he watched a small cloud of dust billow around his outstretched fingers before settling once more. Catching movement in his peripheral vision, Ichigo looked up to see the sky full of falling flakes.

 _What the…_

Gentle breezes stirred the bits of white, and the smell that he had registered when awaking once more crossed his nose. The air smelled charred, carrying the stench of the foul remnants of battle. It was a smell he was too familiar with. Standing up, he turned to try and find some clue as to where he was.

Ichigo froze in awe of the scene before him. Spreading out for a small distance was an expanse covered in the white dust, with more falling steadily. The flakes, he noticed, were not white like the snow he had assumed they were. A dull, lifeless grey, the powder covering the ground made a dreary and ominous blanket.

The land was flat, and utterly unremarkable. No vegetation could be seen, no blades of grass peeking through the blanket. There were only the falling flakes, each drifting noiselessly to the ground to land atop another.

His attention was drawn, however, as soft hints of a whisper reached his ear.

Spinning quickly, Ichigo was stunned to see a figure facing away from him, just within speaking distance. Outlined by nothing but grey sky, the being was standing on the very edge of whatever land they were on.

Observing more closely, a slight prick of recognition flickered somewhere within the recesses of his mind as he took in a multitude of jet black wings, a long tail and legs covered in snakelike scales.

"Who are you?" Ichigo questioned apprehensively.

This man, this being, stirred something within his memory. Something bad. Flashes, images attached to feelings of terror flew across his mind, teasing his subconscious with glimpses of—something.

 _Damn it, why can't I remember?_

No response came, merely a continuation of the whispers that only just made it to his ear.

"What the Hell is going on? Where are we? Who are you? How did we end up here?"

Yet again, no response came as the being continued to stare out into the distance. Stepping closer, a horribly familiar sensation started to awaken his nerves. A hateful aura surrounded the being, and with every step closer, Ichigo's skin felt as if needles were fighting their way through his skin, raising at the sheer magnitude of the aura.

"I asked you a question. Who are you? Where are w—"

The question died on his lips as he came to the very edge of a ridge overlooking what looked to be the devastated remains of a city.

Tall, jagged remnants of what had most likely been skyscrapers still smoldered, with clouds of ash still billowing into the sky. Bright orange flames flickered in various places, evidence of some catastrophic event.

The scent of the air, along with the ravaged skyline of the city at their feet, sparked something within his mind. Righteous anger began to color his thoughts, as a small collection of his memories finally connected.

"Justice."

The word seemed lost in the soft breeze that blew across the ridge upon which they stood. This was home, or what remained of it.

Ichigo could still remember glimpses of a massive gate, burning fields, towering structures. Hateful, glistening towers that mocked his very existence. Their destruction felt right. Just.

 _What?_

Before he could question the thoughts, another memory surfaced. A man with golden wings, a brilliant halo, and a sword…a sword that sought to dominate. A sword that pulled, that sought to subjugate, to make him a slave to that man.

That sycophantic, sad-faced man who only stood and watched his demise. That man who had dared to say that God was dead.

 _God was dead? God? Impossible! Inconceivable! How can this…no…no…._

Ichigo shook his head violently. Something was wrong. These thoughts were not his, the memories tied to nothing he had known.

Looking up, Ichigo's gaze was met by pitch black eyes staring at him. The eyes, the voice he was hearing whispering, they prompted other, unbidden memories that made no sense to him.

 _Icy waters, oppressive auras, a cross, dark wings…scaled legs…a rich, overwhelming voice…_

"Samael."

The word was a whisper, an accusation. The Angel of Death. The term, Ichigo had no idea where it had come from, made him tense.

Why? What were these names to him? The breezes that had been brushing against them since he had awakened stopped suddenly, allowing the voice to fully reach his ear.

"The truth of life is the embrace of death. The truth of life—"

Over and over, Samael whispered the phrase. With each recitation, the tone darkening.

The voice was dripping in fury, in pain. It, along with the potent aura he was emitting were only a few of the sensations in the symphony of agony that seemed to be the very essence of the atmosphere.

Unable to speak, Ichigo searched his mind for anything, any memory or thought that would make sense of this.

Was this his inner world? But he had no zanpakuto, no hollow. They had both been sacrificed against Aizen, so how could he have an inner world?

Frustration was beginning to overtake him. So many things had happened, were _happening_ , and he could make no logical connections.

 _Wait._

What was the term that he had heard? Sacred…sacred…

A Sacred Gear. Recalling the voice that had felt as if it would consume his existence, the recollection crashed into the forefront of his mind.

" _ **Samael the Seducer, the Accuser, the Destroyer. Though your bonds have been released, you shall be bound to the very being that you deceived. As with the heavenly dragons, your existence shall be bound into a Sacred Gear. Your curse shall be contained within a vessel not of your own existence. Such is the punishment for your crimes. This vessel shall be your bearer, your partner, your master."**_

It had been real.

"Why…how…" Ichigo was at a loss for words.

Each of the terrifying dreams that were clearing were not dreams, simply memories of his cursed reality.

Why?

Why had this biblical God cursed him in such a way? What had he ever done to earn such wrath? He had never even known more than a few simple facts of the entire religion!

Turning to face the ruined city once more, Samael simply continued growling.

What was he supposed to make of this? Was his life truly this arbitrary?

Each revelation only served to confuse him, but Ichigo was gladly distracted by the sounds of metal clanking together. Raising a brow at Samael, who continued to face away from him, he stepped forward and looked to the former angel's hands.

A cold stare was all he received from Samael as he could now see bright purple chains binding his clawed hands to the ground.

" **That would be my doing, Ichigo Kurosaki,"** a deep voice spoke. Turning behind him, Ichigo saw a hazy, nondescript humanoid figure walking toward him.

His eyes never straying from his glare, nor blinking, Samael finally spoke directly to Ichigo.

"It would seem that your other slave has decided that I am too dangerous to be free even within my own prison."

"Hogyoku," Ichigo muttered as the newly arrived being came to stand by him.

This was getting to be too much. Struggling to overcome the constant stream of partial thoughts and memories, he had all but forgotten about the incredible being that had chosen him as a bearer.

" **Indeed. Given what has happened, as well as what must, I could not allow Samael to move about freely until you have both had a chance to speak to one another."**

"What do you mean?"

" **You must admit that communicating with each other is essential. Regardless of intention, we must all be aware of what our situation currently is, and make a decision for moving forward. Would you not agree?"** Hogyoku asked, raising a hand and dispersing the chains.

Ichigo couldn't immediately answer as Samael turned to fully face him. Towering above him, the being was monstrous. A dangerous aura rolled off of him in waves, but the feelings were less foreign. They felt close, intimate as if they were…his?

 _The truth of life is the embrace of death._

"Just what is that situation? So much has happened. Samael isn't giving me much, and the voice said that I had to bear his curse as his master and partner. What does this mean for the future?"

" **I cannot claim to fully know. It would seem that Samael has been forcibly attached into the essence of your very soul. This could be problematic, as you surely noticed once Kisuke Urahara forced reiatsu back into you, and by extension, myself. I am what is left of your Shinigami and hollow aspects, which have been united with your human body. Also, there was the introduction of another power, one that is very similar to Samael's, but not exactly the same. It was lighter—purer."**

Dragging his hand down his face, Ichigo grumbled, "So what you're telling me is that there is just too much shit going on? I was already there. What am I supposed to do with all of this?! I have you—the thing that spawned an entire war—and Samael, clearly not the most popular person in Heaven, attached to my soul, and I have no idea what that means. I can barely think straight because of so much going on in my head! Everything feels different, thoughts that aren't really my own keep playing in my mind. I keep hearing these words, over and over!"

 _The truth of life is the embrace of death._

Noticing Samael had looked away once more, Ichigo too looked out into the distance, trying to find some kind of answer. The mysteries of 'why' were seemingly never to be solved, but could he at least have the 'what'? Something, anything to help illuminate what had happened, and what would happen, besides knowing that he was a spiritual mutt.

"It means, young one, that your existence is now as despised as my own," Samael whispered, wincing before returning to his muttering again. Looking at the pained expression on his face, Ichigo felt anxious.

" **Ichigo, you must calm yourself. Yes, you have two beings now attached to your soul that will gain you no warm welcomes. The sword that you bore seemed to cause just as much fury when you fought in Heaven. However, we have no choice in that, as we are all—"**

"Fought in Heaven?" Ichigo interrupted, a growl building in his throat as he turned back to Samael. Unbidden, the orb within his chest shimmered ominously and the air trembled.

"It was all real…" he whispered.

Glancing once more to the ruined city, several more of the memories that had been just beyond his grasp began to fall into place. The icy waters, the man with golden wings and sad eyes, the burning buildings, the feel of his hand wrapped around the throat of the woman…

 _The woman…_

 _The woman!_

Eyes widening in horror, Ichigo's consciousness once more became clouded by panic and rage.

Memories of Samael's voice urging him to kill the woman who's eyes had been so kind, so sad began to surface. He remembered strangling the woman who had tried to let him live, even when he had begged her to kill him.

"Is she alive?" he asked, Samael's aggrieved profile doing nothing to ease his worries.

The being refused to turn back to him, seemingly oblivious to all but the ruinous city.

Ichigo's anger was palpable, only being fueled by the terror of what he didn't know. The memories were slowly gaining substance, but none gave him an answer to what was quickly becoming the most important question.

"The truth of life is the embrace of death." The words continued coming, each one slipping deeper into a snarl.

" _Is she alive?! You made me destroy Heaven, and…and…did I kill her?!"_ Ichigo bellowed, his voice nearly breaking as he reached out and gripped Samael's shoulder, forcing him around.

What was the truth? Did he murder that woman?! Had she simply become a victim to his weakness?

" _God is dead!",_ Samael bellowed as his arm shot out to remove Ichigo's from his shoulder.

Ichigo wanted to tear out his hair in frustration. Answers were not coming. No indications, no hints, nothing! Samael looked crazed, his eyes seeing something beyond Ichigo, who was standing directly before him.

Yet, he couldn't care. Ichigo couldn't force sympathy into his consciousness. This being had possibly caused him to take the life of an innocent woman—a woman who had been unable to kill him, the _only_ person that he had met that hadn't wanted to kill him — and to ravage an entire dimension.

The possibility tore at his heart and dominated his senses.

Quickly losing himself to fear and anger, Ichigo launched his body at Samael. The strike was hard, and the momentum carried the pair over the edge of the cliff.

 **XXXXXX**

Blurred grey was all that Samael could see as wind roared in his ears. His senses were bombarded with the noise and sheer force of the wind tearing at him as he fell.

That was, until a patch of orange hair rapidly appeared immediately in front of him as the boy who had become his master butted his head viciously.

The boy's face was terrified. He seemed unfamiliar, unable to cope with true horror and hatred.

 _How unfortunate._

Above the brutal gusts that assaulted his senses, he could hear the bellows of the boy so desperately gripping him.

"What did I do?! Did I kill her?! Answer me you bastard!"

Words. They were only words. Did the boy understand nothing? God had died. What else was there to ponder? There was no purpose, no thing or person of importance. No concept of relevance…nothing.

Another collision of craniums ignited a flare of anger within Samael.

" _Is she dead?!"_

Had Ichigo Kurosaki remembered nothing? His taking back control of his body or the way he foolishly cut off his own arm to save a servant of a failed system? Did he not recall ruining everything that Samael had hoped to salvage of his broken existence?!

The flare quickly grew and spread, consuming so many of the voices within his mind. Did this boy realize nothing? Ichigo Kurosaki was bound to Samael, the very wrath and hatred of God made real…the very bane of the Creator's existence…and he worried over the fate of a single Seraph?

The ignorance, the sheer nobility of the notion repulsed him. How dare he? How dare this—

Though still plummeting to the city below, Samael could take no more. Snapping his arm forward, he gripped Ichigo's throat and brought their heads together in a merciless collision. Again and again, each brutal impact both drew and smeared blood over both faces as their visions dimmed and senses dulled.

"How could it possibly matter?! Nothing matters! Do you not understand? God is dead! There is no purpose, no balance—my fate has been stolen from me yet again! All is pointless, you foolish boy!"

The ground was approaching quickly, its rough and rocky surface obvious regardless of the blankets of ash. Yet, before Samael could do anything to right himself, Ichigo shoved the arm clutching his throat away before dragging their faces close.

Ichigo's gaze burned, the blood on his face only increasing his glare's effect. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes those of a man terrified for what someone else could have suffered at his hand, giving Samael his first glimpse of the true nature of the boy that had been made his master.

"Samael," he rasped lowly, his voice hoarse yet his words carried across the tumult around them. "Did I kill her?"

The falling Angel of Death considered his questions answered. Ichigo clearly did not remember, nor understand, the folly of his worry. He was too young, too noble to understand the hatred, the emptiness and jealousy that would soon tear Samael apart.

"You—" he began, only to be cut off as he glanced over the boy's shoulder. Amidst the thick waves of ash was a bright, violet light that was approaching them at tremendous speed.

His eyes widened as realization dawned. This Hogyoku, whomever he was, had unleashed an attack. Given the earlier chains, there was no question as to whom the assault was directed. Spreading his wings, he tried to evade when the hands clenching him tightened.

"Tell me! What did I do to her—"

Ichigo's words paused as his eyes widened in shock. Samael met his gaze, sharing his expression, before both looked down to see a purple spear piercing their hearts just as they struck the ground.

 **XXXXXX**

Samael groaned as his eyes opened. His body ached, and his strength was drained.

The light was dim, moving as if sunlight peeking between clouds. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled sharply. Seeing an all-too-familiar stream of bubbles and hearing a slight _gurgle_ , he took in the world around in a sudden panic.

Water. Water was everywhere, frigid and pressing tightly against his skin. Skin that was covering a body that he had no control over. He couldn't even move his eyes to look.

Fear and sadness flowed over his consciousness, overriding the panic that was wrapping so tightly around his mind. This world was cold, lonely and desolate. Feelings of despair flooded his mind, helplessness becoming all he knew.

No. No, he couldn't be back in Cocytus. Impossi—

"… _ **I don't feel like showing you!"**_ a loud voice bellowed, interrupting his growing hysteria. His gaze being turned in the direction of the sound, he saw a fearsome creature hurtling towards him.

A sharp horn on one side, flowing white hair on the other, and an incomprehensible look in heterochromatic eyes created a fierce visage of the being that was screaming at him.

 _What…why can I not move?! What is this?!_

Before he could think further, he watched as his arm brought a broken black sword to block the incoming attack, countering and sending the creature floating back.

He couldn't understand. That wasn't his arm. What was happening? He had been falling with Ichigo, then a purple spear of light had pierced their hearts and—

His thoughts were interrupted as the creature prepared for another attack. Who was this being? It must be powerful, to have broken this sword in half. Trying to prepare for the strike, Samael was once again forced to face the reality of his imprisonment in his own body.

Nothing made sense. What felt like his former prison was now the site of a battle between himself—but not himself— and whatever this creature was. However he couldn't move, couldn't blink, he could barely even think above the waves of resignation, loneliness and sorrow that were threatening to overwhelm his mind.

Seeing the creature come nearer, Samael prepared to see his blade come forward once more to fend off the attack. However, another release of bubbles floated before his eyes, and he felt his hand loosen.

 _No_. No, he would not die like this. He did not even know what 'this' was, but he certainly wouldn't die from it!

Wait…why were his eyes closing? Why did he feel resigned, accepting of his fate? No! Samael would not go gently! He had to fight. Fight!

" _ **So you finally realized you can only use the final Getsuga Tensho by accepting my sword…"**_

Feeling his eyes open, Samael impatiently waited as they slowly drifted down to a sword that pierced his chest. No! It cannot end here! It cannot end so far out of his control!

"I don't feel any pain…"

 _Why did I say that?_

His thoughts were in disarray as his lips stopped moving. Though true, there was no pain, the words were not his. He had said nothing, yet it had been his mouth that had moved.

The loneliness and sorrow that he had felt magnified, growing until they felt as if they would consume him. It made no sense! What was happening?!

His thoughts had interfered with his listening, as he saw the creature that had run him through was talking, as well as…crying?

"… _ **what I wanted to protect was you, Ichigo."**_

Ichigo?! What did the creature mean, Ichigo? He was Samael. Samael, the Angel of Death!

" _ **Ichigo, when you use this technique…"**_

Could this be…

Suddenly, his vision shifted and he was looking at and talking to a different demonic being. White skin and wings, a black face, white wings and three large holes in his chest stared at him across the span of a massive crater.

The crater was in a ruined wasteland beneath a blue sky…

"…by using this technique, I lose all my Shinigami powers. That's why it's called 'Final'."

Could this be some kind of memory? It was the only conclusion he could reach, as his mouth moved once more. But why? Why was he reliving a memory of Ichigo's?

"Impossible! A mere human could never surpass me!"

The being spoke, yet Samael felt a massive wave of power swell within him as his arm rose. The power was rich, it was absolute, it was…himself?

Whatever it was, it was burning the very atmosphere around his body. Samael had only been in the presence of this type of power before, only just tasted authority that this energy exuded.

 _How is this—_

"Mugetsu."

As his arm fell, the world went black and Samael felt a strong pull backward.

…..

Almost immediately, Samael's eyes snapped open. Taking in his surroundings, he only saw darkness. The darkness was peaceful, a tranquil dimension of it's own.

Realization struck quickly.

This was death. Samael was dead…or was it Ichigo that was dead? Hadn't he just seen the boy all but turn himself into a god?

Yet, as he pondered, he began to feel what could only be described as an itch. A feeling. A nagging in the back of his mind that was telling him that something was unfinished, undone.

The peace, the embrace of death, as Samael often described it, felt unwelcome. If this was still Ichigo—or at least his memory—then the boy was fighting hard against death's embrace.

" _Kurosaki-kun!"_

The voice was soft, not in tone, but simply in volume. Panic, terror rang clear through the voice. The persistent sensation grew.

" _Kurosaki-kun! Kurosaki-kun, please!"_

Desperation could not begin to describe the voice. This voice, this girl, had lost something dear. She was terrified, she was heartbroken…why? What it because Ichigo was dead? What was this memory?

The sensation became unbearable, pushing violently against the calm embrace.

"She's calling me."

Ichigo's voice, an exhausted whisper, floated across the darkness of the embrace.

"I can hear her. She's calling me…she needs me."

The sensation saturated the dimension, filling every cell, every molecule of energy.

"Get up."

Samael felt the energy welling up within him, Ichigo's thoughts becoming clear. Whatever this girl needed, she would get. Something as insignificant as death couldn't keep him from his duty as protector.

"Get up!"

The energy began pushing against the embrace.

"I…I…"

 _What?!_ Samael could hardly believe what he was feeling, what he was hearing.

"I WILL PROTECT HER!"

The energy erupted, coloring the world red, and keeping Samael blind to everything but the vivid crimson.

Yet he could feel.

Rage. Fury. Malice. Hatred. All base, instinctive feelings flowed through the red blur that was this world, funneling into one massive stream to address a single fact—

There was a threat.

Something was harming what was his. His friends were in danger.

Eliminate the threat.

A brief flash of light burst through, bringing a vision of massive, roaring fires and a severed arm in his hand. The savage roar that burst from his maw felt good, felt right.

The world fell back to red.

Break the threat. Destroy the threat.

Another flash of light erupted, and Samael saw his hand gripped tightly around a bright green bolt of lightning. The bolt was powerful, strong in a way that surprised even him. He couldn't think on it long, however…there was still a threat.

Red, once more.

Not finished. Must destroy threat. Not finished! Must end—

"Ishida-Kun!"

Light burst through once more, letting Samael see a boy in white clothes sitting against a stone, a large black sword piercing his abdomen. Who was this boy? It must be someone important, because the girl was screaming so.

" **..lp her."**

The voice was his…or at least, his mouth was moving. It was Kurosaki, but he still felt as if he were within death's embrace. This was wrong. Death was absolute to all.

He would know.

" **I will help her."**

No. This wasn't possible. Ichigo Kurosaki was not above death. Why would he do this?

Instead of the deep red he had just experienced, the world fell to black, and Samael was pulled violently backward before his senses were assaulted yet again.

…..

Crashes rang out close by. The air was dusty, fire could be heard crackling and the smell of smoke was strong.

 _It's my fault…Everyone will die!_

Samael felt panic clutching his chest. Something had happened, something terrible, and worse would happen because he—no, Ichigo—caused it.

His vision cleared to see a small woman on the ground, bleeding profusely. Her raven hair covered one of her violet eyes, which were piercing his own with their stare. She was holding a blood-spattered silver sword at his chest and speaking.

"You…become a Shinigami."

"What?!" Surprise flooded his mind.

 _Shinigami? Will that give me the power to protect?_

"Pierce your chest with this zanpakuto—"

Samael's gaze turned to see a young girl lying on the ground, asking if he was alright. He also saw a dark haired man lying on the ground by his broken house, blood pooling all around.

Both were being shadowed by a hideous monster. The creature was impossibly tall, with a white, fish-like face over a humanoid body.

This was wrong. These people were important. The _most_ important. Why? Why had he brought this on them? He was supposed to be a protecter. _She_ had told him to be a protector! _She_ named him for it!

 _Wait, who is She?_

Before he could dwell on it, Samael noticed that Ichigo's conversation had come to an end.

"Let's do it."

"Yes."

With that, he felt the blade pierce him, but far deeper than any blade he had ever felt. This sword seemed to cut his very being apart, leaving a hole that was quickly being filled.

His vision flashing once more, Samael's attention was turned to see the large monster lunging for him before he bellowed, "Realize the mistake of messing with my family, Fish Face!"

As he finished, he noticed a massive sword in his hands, which he brought down on the creature's face.

Darkness overtook Samael's vision as he was torn backwards once more.

….

Suddenly the air smelled wet, and strange. A scent familiar to him teased his senses.

Drops of water were hitting his face, the cool liquid bringing him back to the present. He was tired, and his mind felt hazy. Why couldn't he open his eyes?

"Momma?"

 _What is this?! Momma? What memory could this be?_

Samael was finding it difficult to maintain his own sense of self, the memories so engrossing, so substantial that he was actually feeling the events as they took place. Still, he had to try to—

The rain continued to fall on his face, but he still couldn't open his eyes. Yet, a sweet scent was able to reach his nose. It was a scent that, even with the other strange ones, let him know that everything was ok. That scent was momma's scent. Everything was better with her around.

Relief filled his chest. She would make everything ok. Still, he shouldn't stay out in the rain too long, Momma wouldn't like that.

Quickly, the relief that filled his chest started to hurt. It was really heavy on him. Was he just so relieved that it made it hard to breathe?

Finally able to open his eyes, he blinked against the oncoming raindrops. Flicking his eyes downward, he saw the familiar orange of momma's hair. It was such a pretty color, but why was she on his chest?

Flashes of memories crossed his mind, reminding him of how he had gotten here. He had been walking with her on their way home. It had been raining, and they were passing the river. He had seen a girl.

A girl by the river. She was going to drown, when—

"… _Ichigo, No!"_

Momma had screamed loud. Why would she scream like that? Why isn't she moving?

"I'm awake Momma, I'm sorry I fell down."

"Mom?"

She must be asleep! I just need to wake her up.

"Momma! Get up, Mom—"

Samael was made to look at his hand in the pale light, seeing a dark stain on it that had not been there before he tried to wake her up. He knew about blood, he had seen it lots in daddy's clinic. But that would mean…

"Momma! Momma, no!"

Finally wiggling himself out from beneath her body, Samael felt the despair and grief flood everything in existence. She was lying facedown, the red on his hand seeping out all around her.

"No…I'm sorry, Momma…I didn't mean to! Please! Please! Get up! Get up, Momma!"

Tears were clouding his vision, and he needed to see his mom! They wouldn't stop, though. Stupid tears, I have to see Momma!

Samael felt wave upon wave of agony crushing the young heart of Ichigo, consuming his soul as all faded to black one last time.

Within the unending darkness, he was unable to keep the visions at bay, as the cries, the tears, and the endless blood that defined the life of Ichigo Kurosaki began to feel indistinguishable from his own mind.

"… **What I wanted to protect was you."**

 _God is dead…_

"Get up"

 _The truth of life is the—_

"I will protect her!"

— _embrace of death._

"Realize the mistake of messing with my family!"

 _God is—_

 _NO!_

 **XXXXXX**

A warm sensation brought Ichigo back to alertness. The heat was satisfying, loosening his muscles and giving him energy, causing him to writhe slowly in enjoyment.

Feeling a scratching sensation trailing from his chin all the way to his toes, Ichigo's eyes opened to a world of vivid green.

As his vision adjusted to the light, Ichigo took in what could only be labelled as a paradise.

Towering trees, surrounded by lush greenery gave occasional peeks at a sapphire sky and a slight rustle as a gentle breeze disturbed the leaves overhead. He had never even conceived of a world so—perfect—so undeniably more than words could describe.

The scratching sensation increased as Ichigo felt his arms and legs moving in tandem, pulling himself upwards along what turned out to be a tree's trunk.

… _What?_

Why was he climbing a tree? What was he doing in such a place, when all he could remember was…falling?

Falling, and…

The memories came pouring back as he remembered falling, fighting Samael as he tried to discover just what he had done to the woman he had been strangling.

They only served to confuse, however, as Ichigo felt himself climbing higher on the tree. It was imperative that he get high enough. _It_ would happen any moment now, they would arrive.

The compulsion was strong, giving his movements purpose. It was nearly time!

 _Time for what? Where am I, and why am I climbing up a—What the Hell?!_

His gaze not under his control, Ichigo's thoughts halted as he caught a glimpse of something that made no sense. Watching his progress upward, he caught occasional sight of large, scaled hands with sharp claws reaching forward.

The scales were a deep bronze, glimmering in the infrequent flashes of sunlight. In shock, Ichigo tried to take in as much as he could about just _what_ he was.

His body felt…long. Each step, whether by hand or by foot, pushed the long, writhing body up the tree. His back was tense, as if holding himself in, and he felt substantial power within his limbs as he propelled himself onward. He noticed—

 _There!_

A thought, not his own, ran through his mind in excitement. Whatever was happening, whatever was going to occur, it was now.

His gaze shifted, coming to rest on a man and woman who were walking through the foliage.

They were beautiful, works of art on living canvas. Both were unclothed, their golden tan skin smooth and unblemished. The man was tall, his features pleasant and defined. The woman just shorter than he, bore long brown tresses falling past her bare shoulders.

Obviously comfortable in that fact, no sense of shame was detectable, which caused Ichigo simultaneous confusion and disgust.

"Base creatures, no different from the witless cattle that grazes nearby," he growled.

 _What?!_

The thought was so intimate, such a part of his own consciousness, that Ichigo began to try to panic. These were not his thoughts! This was more something that…

…Something that Samael would say…

His thoughts were overrun yet again, as hate began to well within his mind. Focusing once more on the man and woman walking about, the anger began to fester.

How could they bear to live in such a way? Created in their Maker's image? Ludicrous! Their state of undress was no matter, it was the bareness of their minds that burned in his veins.

Jealousy began to boil within his heart. How are they, the unknowing beasts that they were, such favored beings? With no will, no true knowledge of their own existence, how can they even claim to live?!

Beyond that, how could God claim to hold dear such, such—shells? Nothing more than mere puppets to entertain, these _humans_ seemed to be no more than tools to further provide glory for the Holy One.

While he— a manifestation of the very essence of God himself— was cast aside, these mere trinkets were held in the highest esteem.

 _How disgusting. Creation simply to feed your own need for worship? Such a blind, base system you have created._

The thoughts, dark and full of hatred, began sinking further into Ichigo's mind. Creation simply for glorification? No true will of the heart?

Just what was man intended to be?

His attention was torn as the woman separated from the man and began to wander closer to the tree where he waited.

Nervous excitement began fueling the dark notions running through Samael's, and by extension Ichigo's, minds. The moment that been his only thought for so long was almost at hand.

Such a dangerous thought it had been.

As the literal embodiment of the poison and evil of God, what better way to validate one's existence than to assume the Holy One's most hated form? To have such a form be the cause of his precious human's reception of awareness?

Oh, how he had awaited this! Awareness, self realization, whatever it would be called, was the key to their greatest separation from God. He would use his disguise to do no more than to place a simple, damning question within the mind of the celebrated humans.

 _Why?_

To have them question, to have them want to know more about their own minds and limitations, would no doubt devastate the Holy Father. Their curiosity a wedge between human and the divine. Only the perfect tool could be used for such a thing.

It had to be a dragon. The humans, the ignorant shells that they were would know no difference between a dragon and the serpents that slithered along the ground.

God would.

Yes, it may take some time before he learned precisely what kind of being deceived his precious puppets, time enough to distance himself far enough from the act to keep doubt alive, but God would _know._

The thought was almost too delicious to bear.

Though vile, as his own hatred of dragons inherently surpassed God's—for the moment— the disguise had to be absolute. Tightening his back once more, the reasoning for assuming such a complete disguise floated across his mind once more.

He couldn't be caught for this. No, he _had_ to be present, to witness the face of God when his toys began to know, to think for themselves. He wanted to feel, to taste, the moment of revelation.

His attention was pulled quickly. The woman was alone, glancing at the tree. The branches hung low, displaying the fruit of knowledge so wonderfully, it was almost too easy.

Ichigo felt the moment arrive. The glance, though only lasting moments, was held a moment too long. Her eyes held such curiosity, a simple question of 'If'.

"Take, eat," he whispered, his words a soft caress as his power infused them. This was the pivotal moment. A moment so delicate, a mere breath could shatter it all.

The woman's gaze turned to him, somewhat startled at his appearance, but not in fear. God had promised them dominion over this garden, a false sense of reign, which they would soon come to regret.

"I am forbidden," she replied, her gentle voice betraying her innocence.

Ichigo could feel Samael's pleasure at the ease in which the woman spoke with such a foreign creature.

Keeping his voice gentle, he questioned, "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?"

The woman paused, her brow furrowed in contemplation before she answered. Her answer seemed rehearsed, as if she were trying to read it from the pages within her mind.

"We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, but God did say, 'You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.'"

Ichigo felt their brow rise as Samael thought. _Such a cruel God, playing on their innocence, their inherent weakness._

How? It was inconceivable how God could want such beings. Surely the trees knew more!

Such was the way of God, it would seem. Dispatch what does not follow your purity to the letter, condemn that which might challenge your glory. How merciless to create such contradictions to be inherent within the very nature of beings.

Ichigo felt a welling of satisfaction within himself— _no, within Samael!—_ as history was being written in front of his face.

No matter how hard Ichigo struggled, the thoughts ran through his mind, the words ready, poised to strike and seal the fate of God's favored being.

"You will not certainly die. God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."

Satisfaction and spite roared white-hot within Ichigo as he watched the expression on the woman's face change. There was a hunger, a craving that had never been known before within her eyes. He could nearly read the questions rolling behind her eyes, the understanding that something was lacking, missing from her makeup.

 _No turning back now. Take it, human…_

 _Take it…_

His body hummed with anticipation, a near tangible energy as he watched her internal debate.

 _Take it…_

Ichigo felt elation, born of pure enmitythe woman turned, reaching her hand out and closing it around the hanging piece of fruit.

Ichigo's world suddenly fell black, an empty nothingness as he felt pulled away from the scene he just witnessed.

….

His vision immediately returned, this time to a much different scenario.

All the world was dark, the peace of night fallen over the land. The moon was full and cast an eery glow over a large city, giving him an unexpected view.

Monstrous pyramids rose towards the heavens in the distance, a ribbon of black cutting them off from the city. Feeling his head turning, he gazed over the distance to see countless shacks and houses grouped together away from the grandeur of the city.

 _Just like the Seireitei._

His thoughts were halted, however, as others took their place. Words came in the same, overpowering voice that had sealed his own fate what felt to be just moments ago.

" **Samael, you are to pass through the city in accordance with my decree. Carry out my sentence upon all who have failed to do as I commanded by striking down the first born son of their household. Pass over all who have placed the blood outside their houses, but kill the others."**

 _Of course, I do your bidding as you keep your hands clean._

"It will be done, Lord."

" **See that it is. Assume whatever form you wish to conceal yourself as you take them, then you are to return to me, Angel of Death."**

As the voice stopped, Ichigo felt his heart begin to pound within his chest and a chilling sensation creeped seeped through his veins.

 _He knows._

The words could not be mistaken. God had _never_ ordered him in that manner before. He was unsure of how, or when God had learned of Samael's part in separating his precious humans from him, but he _knew!_

How great God's anger had been, when he had discovered the treachery within the Garden of Eden! Beyond even Samael's imagining, for the composition of his very existence, the fury of God had been unprecedented. Each level of the newly expanded realm shook from his ire, terrifying those within.

The story had spread throughout all of Heaven like wildfire, though curiously none had ever questioned Samael.

A hunt for a mysterious serpent had ensued, with nothing to show for a result, of course. God had sent the Seraphim to scour the earth in search of the beast, with direct orders for capture, not kill.

When nothing substantial had been revealed, stories had quickly spread of God's curse upon snakes and dragons alike. Yet, Samael knew that the search would never end, he knew that God would be relentless in his search for the truth.

The stream of memories were pushed aside as Ichigo felt his and Samael's mind churn furiously amidst their descent into the city. Dissolving his form into a fine mist, Samael set about his task of administering God's wrath upon the houses of Egypt.

Moments later, Ichigo's world fell to black once more. Unable to feel his own body, he struggled with the weight of his last vision. The fear of God's retribution and the race for some kind of plan were nothing to him in the wake of his actions.

How many had he killed?

It mattered little whether it was a borrowed memory, or reality. Countless times, he had entered the ancient houses, sensing and _knowing_ each life force that lay before him. Countless times he had felt the depths of those beings before snuffing out the lives of so many innocent humans.

Ichigo felt dirty, contaminated with death. The sensation, the actual tangible _feeling_ of what he had done was an experience that he could never forget. What kind of being could be responsible for this, and what of a God who would order it?!

Samael's mind during the ordeal had been mechanical, almost a scale. Each life seemed to equate to a balance, an equilibrium within the world. There was no revulsion at the deed, rather a preoccupation with what he was going to do in his flight from Heaven.

Before Ichigo could lose himself to his confusion and horror, he felt himself once more dragged away from his own consciousness.

…..

Ichigo's hearing came before his sight.

Loud shouts and muffled clanking accompanied the unmistakeable sounds of marching. The rhythmic pounding of steps shook the ground, stirring clouds of dust.

The air was hot, merely a wave of heat and dirt burning the skin and clogging the lungs.

Opening his eyes, Ichigo found himself peering through branches. Apparently hidden within a tree or some kind of hedge, he watched as seemingly endless beings briskly marched in formation away from him.

He was interrupted as Samael's thoughts swept through his mind, alerting him to the fact that he was trailing the armies of the Fallen Angels as they were en route to battle.

This purpose of this battle seemed odd. They were gathering on some forsaken plain to fight over…something. It had been hard for Samael to gain information while constantly in hiding.

Ever since the night he had passed over the people of Egypt, Samael had fled God's wrath. He knew it was only a matter of time before the Holy One caught him, but he would not willingly surrender for following his nature.

Having successfully hidden his blade, Kusanagi-no-Tsurugi, he had taken to following armies into battle to witness the outcomes of the Great War between the three factions. No side had truly been winning, but he knew that he had to keep tabs on the state of affairs to know just how safe he was.

This battle seemed out of place, however. All prior battles had been centered over key personnel or locations, yet they were now meeting in some random land that had no value to anyone, nor had there been any talk of a targeted person.

The land the armies were converging upon was a wild land, sparsely vegetated and primarily inhabited by any number of vicious beasts. It's only inherent value was simply that it was a strangely appropriate location for a supernatural battle.

Something strange was happening, and Samael was struggling to connect the pieces.

Following at a safe distance, Samael peered over a ridge that the fallen had just passed over. Seeing the armies of devils and angels waiting across a massive plain, his confusion only grew.

 _What could they possibly be meeting here for?_

It couldn't be that they cared to spare the population of the human masses. He had seen them slaughtered in droves, whether by 'miracle' or collateral damage, and nothing ever led him to believe that their safety was a concern.

He peered more closely, trying to ascertain any possible reason for such a battle.

As he gazed to the gathered devils, Samael tensed in recognition. There were many strong faces at the front of the line, in particular a pair of men—one with shockingly crimson hair, and another with with a head of stark green. Each looked tense, prepared for the battle ahead, yet standing boldly at the fore was a being that he had not seen since the Fall.

Satan, the Morning Star himself.

The man was tall, nearly a head over those around him, with dark ebony hair flowing behind him. He was garbed in armor of the deepest black, yet even from his distance Samael could tell that it was only for show.

 _Why would…_

Turning quickly, Samael saw familiar faces as Azazel and Shemhazai stood before the armies of the fallen angels.

 _Are they all…_

His heart began pounding as he turned to face the angels. His suspicions confirmed, he looked upon Michael standing at the front, behind only one.

God. The mighty creator had finally descended from his holy throne to take part in a battle. Something felt wrong, inexplicably so. God never left his throne. _Ever._

This…this must be a decisive battle. It had to be. Why else would—

Ichigo felt all thoughts subside as a thunderous crash shook the entire plain. As Samael braced himself against a large stone, the noise erupted once more, nearly causing some of the armies to fall as the world fell silent once more.

 _What could possibly cause such commotion?_

Tingling waves traversed his skin and the hair of his neck stood on end. His stomach rolled and his lungs tightened within his chest.

 _Something is coming. Something…_

Before he could question further, a large, emerald green jet of energy rocketed over him and the plain, landing just on the other side of where the angels stood.

Monstrous roars broke the silence.

The very face of the earth began to change before his eyes as a wave of trees, rocks, and debris tumbled over the ridge and onto the plain. Again roars rent the air, nearly deafening him.

Samael's heart began to pound in earnest as realization struck.

 _God you clever, devious monster._

Those were the last words he could think before two mountainous blurs of red and white collided overhead, sending shockwaves that rent the ground below him.

Having to take to the air to right himself, Samael's blood began to boil within him at the sight that greeted his eyes.

Two mighty, massive dragons collided mid air as they fought for dominance.

One the deepest of red, the other the purest of white, the creatures were larger than anything he could recall seeing. As he floated in air, watching the sheer majesty and savagery as the pair battled oblivious to anything and anyone around them, it was instantly clear as to why this place was chosen.

God was trying to draw him out.

Peering down at his place among the angels, Samael knew that God was using his very nature, the pure hatred for all things dragon against him. Sacrifices of angels, devils, and the fallen were of little consequence, it seemed.

He must have known that Ddraig and Albion, the respective White and Red Dragon Emperors—the Heavenly dragons, themselves—were battling nearby. How furious he must be, to set aside his loathing for dragons to use them as bait to draw Samael out!

Ahhh, it was so hard to think! The aura, the _smell_ of the dragons called to him on a primal level.

Samael knew that he should leave, to turn and continue to hide himself.

He knew that if he were to engage, he would open himself up to—if not guarantee— capture and retribution. That knowledge screamed at him to leave, to turn around and flee.

Yet, he remained still as he knew that God had laid the perfect trap.

Perfect, because Ichigo—No! Samael!— wanted nothing more in his existence than to tear those beasts from the sky and bathe the earth in their blood.

The desire was a part of his very constitution, his composition. His very being cried out for their blood by his hands!

" **PENETRATE!PENETRATE!PENETRATE!/REFLECT!REFLECT!REFLECT!"**

Powered by ancient might, the words rang out in unison as two massive spheres of energy attached to the snouts of the beasts collided, forcing the other into a stalemate midair. The attacks ground against each other, grinding as though mountains were being ripped from the earth.

Suddenly, the spheres combined, creating a dark black orb of angry energy that quickly exploded outward. Samael felt himself tumbling end over end away from the battle as he caught frequent glimpses of the earth being torn asunder. What trees there were were ripped from the ground and scattered like missiles.

Finally righting himself and crawling back over the ridge, Ichigo noticed that the damage was catastrophic. Scores of angels, devils, and fallen angels were obliterated by the explosion.

Even the leaders, Satan, Azazel, and God himself were kneeling from the force of the blow.

Unable to contain the bloodlust further, and knowing that no better time would ever present itself, Samael took flight after them.

Rocketing across the smoky plain, he relished the draw that pulled him. The singular focus, the overriding passion for what he was going to do flowed into his tightly gripped hand as it plunged into the face of Albion, the White Dragon Emperor as Samael roared in ecstasy.

The momentum from the strike snapped the beast's head to the side, opening him to an attack from Ddraig.

" **Who interferes with the battle of the Heavenly dragons? Begone, pest, and die elsewhere!"**

The red dragon bellowed as he launched a large green attack at Samael. Diving under the assault, Samael flew straight at Ddraig's mouth. The red dragon opened his muzzle further to bite the oncoming angel, only to roar in pain as the seemingly insignificant being appeared and tore one of the razor-sharp fangs from his mouth.

Nearly blinded by rage, Ddraig spewed crimson flames from his maw, following Samael's path and scorching the earth, thoughtlessly killing many more of the warriors gathered below.

When he reached the height of their heads once more, Samael gripped the stolen fang and plunged it deep into Albion's eye. The accompanying roar of agony was deafening, and Samael was flung from the white dragon's face in a shower of blood.

He could not stop. The blood, so molten hot and wet on his skin, only served to increase his desire for more. The dense, hot air and smell of battle consumed him, screaming in his mind for more, more, _more_!

Ichigo himself was lost within the haze of fury and bloodlust. There were no words, no force of seduction…only wild surges of need, of desperation for more. He couldn't help but surrender to the urges, feeling as no more a spectator than he was when he fought Ulquiorra.

Taking wing once more, Samael flew to the face of Ddraig. Keeping close to the monster's body, he raced forward, hitting the crimson horn that protruded from his snout with as much force as he could muster.

Hearing a sickening crack, he swung himself around, gripped the horn tightly and ripped with all of his strength. A monstrous bellow informed him of his success, yet it was accompanied by a savage strike from a massive, clawed hand.

Plummeting to the earth, he could feel that many of his bones were shattered. The unstoppable power behind the strike was unbelievable, and Samael could only think somewhere within his hazed mind that he was lucky to be alive.

Each breath was labored, and wet. He felt a warm liquid seeping from his lips, and pain consume the entirety of his body.

Yet, a gripping of his own hand reminded him of the large horn that he had just taken. The blood, the pain, they were nothing in the face of what he felt. What he saw. What he smelled.

Blinded by need, Samael too to the air once more, streaking upwards with the horn as a spear aimed for Albion's neck. He only vaguely noticed that the white dragon's mouth was currently snapped around the neck of Ddraig as he plunged the jagged horn deep into the exposed throat of the White Dragon Emperor.

Hearing the muffled, raging bellows from both monsters, Samael hurried to continue when he noticed bright white lights suddenly appearing over their battle. As the lights grew, an aura of holy power began to press upon the area, breaking through the haze of battle lust and need.

The lights were blinding, numerous beyond comprehension, illuminating the sky in a sea of holy brilliance.

Turning to see the dragons looking upward, Samael was stunned when a searing pain erupted in his chest and back, a beam of pure light impaling him.

 _No!_

He had known that it was coming. He had been aware of the chance, but he was not ready. It was too early…

 _They're still alive! They must die! They must!_

His panicked thoughts were halted as the tip of the beam of light piercing him burst into a series of hooks, all of which were viciously jerked backwards, sending him falling back to the earth.

Crashing brutally into the broken earth, Ichigo and Samael noticed the light become inescapable bindings as they heard an unmistakable voice say, **"You shall run no longer, Samael. The end has come for my accursed Angel of Death."**

The world immediately fell to black.

 **XXXXXX**

Ichigo's eyes opened once again to find himself face first on the ground in the ruined city of falling ash.

His head was reeling, overcome with emotion and sensation, each becoming indistinguishable from the next. He felt disgust at the ease in which he had taken so many lives, eager lust for the blood of dragons, tortured fury at God's death, elated at his success…

Quickly overwhelmed, Ichigo quickly came to his knees as he retched. Though having nothing to expel, his body heaved violently when his world tried to right itself. His eyes blurred as his body continued to try and come to grips with the state of his mind.

Too much had happened, and was happening, for him to make sense of. Yet, even as the thought crossed his mind, even amidst the wrenching and heaving, the unnerving simplicity of his reality began to dawn on him.

He was bound to the Hogyoku, as well as Samael, in such a manner that he was not powerless. He had no idea of what that meant overall, but the power was undeniable.

 _He wasn't powerless._

Had that not been his worst fear going into the battle with Aizen?

This was his anchor, moving forward. There was obviously more going on then he could comprehend, but he was not powerless. He would forge his way through as he always did.

Right?

Ichigo couldn't focus long on the notion, however. His mind rang with voices not his own, a symphony of hatred and discord that refused to diminish, no matter how hard he tried.

His body too, drew his attention away from the myriad of thoughts churning within. Bursts of energy coursed through him, keeping him off balance. Some were dark and full of anger, sheer malice burning in his veins.

Others were light, as if golden light were spreading within him. Yet others felt familiar, coarse and base instincts alongside sheer power.

The bursts soon grew more violent, each a force battling for dominance.

Keeping his mind focused grew nearly impossible. Such strong, intoxicating sensations vied for superiority while thoughts and voices that cried out for acknowledgement, for satisfaction began to paralyze him.

Soft footsteps, however, brought his attention to one side. Forcing his gaze around, he saw the hazy form of Hogyoku stopping to stand over a still unconscious Samael.

" **As you are starting to understand, your situation is far more complex, Ichigo."**

 **XXXXXX**

Azazel sat in stunned silence.

Mere moments ago, Gabriel had arrived, bringing the object of their conversations into their meeting room, which had conveniently shifted into a much larger room.

 _He was dirty, with stains of blood and soot covering him from head to toe. His clothes, what little remained of them, were torn and only just covering his modesty, allowing all to see a series of scrapes and scars littering his torso and legs._

 _Fittings for shackles had appeared on the floor, magically growing golden chains to contain the unconscious boy._

 _Tension filled the room, as Gabriel had been the one to arrive with Ichigo in tow. The moment she had stepped through the door, the young man held within her arms, Serafall had gone rigid._

 _Though almost unbearably polite with one another, the strain between the two was palpable._

 _Yet, it seemed one-sided at the moment. Glimpsing drying blood on the forehead of the boy, as well as a metal bar covered in blood gripped tightly within her hand, Gabriel seemed unable to focus on her rivalry at the moment._

 _She had been tender with Ichigo. Gently touching him as she clasped the shackles around his wrists and ankles, her warm contact had been somewhat contradicting the scene. When she had carefully raised him up, the chains spreading his arms and legs, she softly brushed the hair from his face._

 _Her face was sad, a stray tear sliding down her cheek. She never looked away from the boy, seemingly content to watch him even in his sleep._

 _While strange, Azazel hadn't been able to deny that Ichigo was due some kindness. Fate had royally screwed him, so it was good that something positive came his way, even if he wasn't awake to notice._

 _After a brief questioning, it had come to light that Gabriel had taken issue with the way Uriel had…sedated…the distraught Ichigo, and that the blood that marred the metal she held was not only Ichigo's._

 _Aside from Azazel's own boisterous laughter, a few sighs and murmurs were the only noises heard._

 _Then everything changed._

 _Within moments of Gabriel's report, Ichigo had begun to stir, rather, his energy did._

 _Strong, oppressive waves of energy began pouring out of the boy, his body beginning to glow in a multitude of colors. Black, purple, gold, grey, blue, over and over the shades of color passed over him._

 _The orb within his chest, the Hogyoku—if he remembered right—, began to glow brightly and spread that light through small veins extending through his torso._

 _His muscles had been taut, strained as if struggling against something. The energy he was emanating began to push against their senses, carrying emotions with them. Feelings of anger and jealousy mixed with helplessness and fear pressed their minds, giving them a glimpse into the struggle that raged within the boy._

 _Ichigo's body tensed, his legs straightening as deep bronze scales began appearing on the visible skin of his legs. They did not completely cover them, though, rather they left a patchwork of skin and scale to mar his flesh._

 _A tearing sound could be heard, and soon blood fell from his face. Looking to the source, sharp fangs could be seen beneath his lips. Shortly after, his body sagged, the tinkling of his chains the only sound to accompany his labored breathing._

 _Before anyone could question what had happened, bright white wings erupted from his back with a loud whoosh. Blindingly white wings, absolutely beautiful in purity. The wings of a Seraph._

 _It had started with three pairs. Then four. Then five._

 _Then six._

 _Yet, the last pair that erupted were different. Though white, they were not shaped like an angel's, rather wide and featherless with talons sprouting from the front of multiple joints._

 _The wings of a dragon._

 _Nervous looks spread around the room. Almost all were aware that one's wings gave warning to the level of power one had, and Ichigo was already looking to be on par with Seraphs and Ultimate Devils._

 _As they watched, pained groans slid from the boy's lips, and the orb within his chest suddenly darkened to a deep violet. With a violent jerk of his body, the dark feelings that had been flowing so forcefully grew stronger, now pounding insistently against their senses._

 _Unexpectedly, Ichigo's wings began to change. The beautiful, pristine white began to stain, his feathers and dragon skin bleeding into a sickly grey._

 _The transition was slow, but relentless. The bleeding color was lifeless, a perfect balance between the pure white of an angel and the unending black of Azazel's own._

A sharp gasp brought everyone's attention back to Ichigo, who's eyes were now open. He immediately began thrashing against his bindings, whipping his head back and forth.

"No…I won't…"

Isshin leapt from his seat, running to his distraught son.

"Ichigo! Ichigo, it's alright. Calm down, son."

" _Shut up!"_

Ichigo shouts devolved into wild bellows, spittle flying from his mouth as he jerked his head to the side. His eyes were wide, trying to fix upon some point on the floor in front of him, seeing something that no one else was.

Looking concerned, Isshin made to speak again when Ichigo continued. "Shut up! I told you it's mine!"

The room fell silent again, as Ichigo's fists clinched and his teeth gritted. The other occupants looked warily amongst each other, murmurs of concern passing between them.

"It would seem that he is not fully in control of himself. This is not good news," Sirzechs said quietly to Michael.

"That does appear to be the case. This is truly a sad day," the Archangel agreed.

Hearing the comments and seeing the resigned expressions on the faces of the gathered leaders, Isshin snapped, "Ah shut the hell up! You just don't know how to talk to him."

Wasting no further words, Isshin stepped close to Ichigo, captured his gaze, and violently head-butted him.

 **XXXXXX**

Within Ichigo's mindscape, an awakened Samael was kneeling at an unremarkable patch of land inside the ruined city.

Amidst the jagged spears of broken skyscrapers and the billowing smoke of destruction, he gently caressed the cracked and broken earth. His master may have just rejected his calling, yet those were only words. Their journey was not complete. It couldn't be.

Regardless of their respective feelings on the matter, they were eternally bonded, and Samael would be damned yet again before he would simply settle for a life as some contemptible slave.

As he searched the area, he began to understand the nature of what was now his living environment. The broken structures, though identical in appearance to the remnants of Fifth Heaven, had actually turned out to be pieces of his host's soul.

He had traced his fingers gently along the edges of what little remained of the many buildings, learning more and more of his bearer, yet one had stood out from all others. One that was so small, only minuscule fragments hidden amongst the falling ash were present—things he could never have found without a sort of kinship.

Ichigo Kurosaki's hatred, his irrationality and rage.

 _Such tiny shards, clear signs of repression and naiveté. This boy knows nothing of his potential…of his purpose…_

Feeling Hogyoku's presence approaching, he quickly hid a pair of shards. Turning his attention back, he spread his fingers and roughly pierced the ground beneath him.

He watched with a grim sense of satisfaction as withering veins of grey began to slowly spread across the landscape of his _master's_ inner world. The world began to react, wilting and hardening as it came into contact with Samael's essence.

This was a necessity. If the memories he had seen had told him anything, it was that his host would survive, and while he was sure that his removal was impossible without dying, Samael refused to wait for others to try and decide his fate.

 _My fate, how absurd._

There was nothing for him now, no purpose or reason, but if he had no choice other than to live, he would have a his say in that existence.

Yet, as his energy surged onward, he encountered resistance. A violent push against the subtle taint of his presence. When Samael would find aspects such as Ichigo's loyalty, or his need to protect, the environment itself began to fight back.

The opposition was fierce, disorienting in the extreme. More memories flooded his mind as the aspects of Ichigo's soul assaulted their attacker, forcing him to witness more of the life of the boy that now bore him.

Shaking his head to regain his concentration, he continued to push in his search for weaknesses, for holes in Ichigo Kurosaki's mental armor. He was desperate to gain a foothold, needing some measure of _control_. The shards that he had hidden were a start, but they were no guarantee.

" **What are you doing?"** Hogyoku suddenly asked, his voice hard as he stood above the kneeling Angel of Death.

Gasping from the exertion, Samael finally released his hand and growled, "What I have to."

 **A/N: Whew! In all honesty, I actually had to cut this one short. There was just too much to get through, too much to feel with these characters and it started to get away from me. Plus, I'll admit that I had a dream much like the dream sequence they had and just had to go with it. From the way things look Chapter 4 is going to be a fun one.**

 **Now, I have received quite a bit of grief about Ichigo suffering/being a pushover/being weak, yada yada yada. All I can say is, why do we all love Ichigo? He overcomes. It's what he does. Every single canon arc is just him overcoming obstacles and barriers. Also, to those of you who seem to love jumping the gun and telling me that you hate where the story is going...how can you possibly know where this is going? I can only say to relax, and just enjoy the story. I know everyone won't like it, but just try not to get ahead of me!**

 **As for the grumbling over power levels and all that... Not to be rude, but everyone can just calm down. We are dealing with gods and supernatural beings. I am a huge bleach fan, but for me that doesn't mean that every single captain can take down leaders of entire pantheons or that Yamamoto can squash something like Great Red. I quite enjoyed chaosemperornex's power ranking in his story Do Me A Wrong. After briefly talking to him, that's pretty much along the lines of what I am thinking. Don't like it? I'm sorry, but it's going to have to do. That's not to say that I wouldn't love reasonable and civilized dialogue through PM about it or cool ideas. Gotta love that.**

 **For all those who have asked, are about to ask, or want to ask: I am not abandoning ANY of my stories. Period. This is just what I could focus on for the moment. I have been encountering and learning to deal with some life-changing long-term health issues, so it has been really hard to get settled and writing on the different ones I have going, but I am doing all I can as I can.**

 **(Catches breath). Regardless, THANK YOU all so much for reading. Each of you, whether you like my work or not, are very much appreciated. You are all awesome.**


	4. Chapter 4

_Shaking his head to regain his concentration, he continued to push in his search for weaknesses, for holes in Ichigo Kurosaki's mental armor. He was desperate to gain a foothold, needing some measure of control. The shards that he had hidden were a start, but they were no guarantee._

" _ **What are you doing?"**_ _Hogyoku suddenly asked, his voice hard as he stood above the kneeling Angel of Death._

 _Gasping from the exertion, Samael finally released his hand and growled, "What I have to."_

 **Chapter 4**

The cacophony of murmurs and grumbles were unwelcome additions to the already overwhelming symphony of voices that Ichigo was forced to sift through.

" _ **God is dead. With His life already taken, what purpose could there be? What reason is there to exist?"**_

"Six pairs of wings? It doesn't matter if they're uniform or not, Michael, he's on par with at least an Ultimate Class Devil!"

"Not only that, just look at his wings! That has to be Samael's influence."

" _ **Listen to their fear. That fear will soon turn to hate, and they will come for your life. Release our power, summon my blade, and rend the world from its very foundations."**_

"No…I won't…" Ichigo gasped, his voice ragged.

He didn't know what else to do at the moment. He had to try to hold out until he could think for himself— _as_ himself.

" _ **What choice do you truly have? They will enslave you, or worse. They care nothing for you now, as you are tainted by my presence as well as Hogyoku's."**_

"Ichigo! Ichigo, it's alright. Calm down, son."

 _Dad?_

" _ **Do not be fooled by such meaningless hope. They want only to subdue you, to trap you as a pawn within their pathetic reign."**_

"Shut up!" Ichigo bellowed aloud.

It was too much. Too many voices clamored for his attention, too many issues demanded his notice. He needed a moment, just a single moment of peace to try and gain some control of his mind.

" _ **Give me your body, Ichigo Kurosaki. Release our power and do something…anything…"**_

Ichigo strained against Samael's chaotic will. The creature's search for anything that would relieve him of the knowledge of God's death was pitiable…moving… _tempting_ …

 _No! He can't take my body again, no more…_

"Shut up! I told you it's mine!"

More voices came. Softer, sadder voices expressing regret.

What were they regretting? They say that he didn't have control, but he did. What business was it of theirs anyway? Who was it that was wanting to—

"Ah shut the hell up! You just don't know how to talk to him," a familiar voice rang out before an even more familiar gesture of a brutal head-butt rocked his consciousness.

"…"

It had hurt like hell, jarring his senses. Pain spread quickly, his forehead aching beneath the bruised skin.

But…that strike had brought him silence. A wonderful, beautiful moment of silence before the voices once more began clamoring within his mind.

"Well that's one way to snap him out of it," an eerily calm voice muttered, interrupting the brief moment of peace. The voice seemed amused, as if whatever was happening could in any way be described as funny.

"Was it truly necessary to do that? The poor boy has gone through enough without his father trying to crush his skull," a young woman's voice asked.

"Isshin, we should not provoke him. Who knows how much control Samael still has at the moment?"

At the last words, Ichigo's eyes snapped wide. His gaze quickly landed upon the source of the voice, and his eyes narrowed.

He knew that voice. He _loathed_ that voice.

"Michael," he whispered, the word a curse upon his lips.

His ire was stalled, however, as he was immediately reminded that Michael was not alone.

The Archangel was surrounded by somewhat familiar faces and auras. Azazel, as well as the crimson haired devil from so long ago and some black haired devil woman stood next to… Kisuke and his father?

Yet, it was Michael that dominated his senses. The Archangel with the sad eyes. The same sad eyes that had watched him staked to a cursed cross, that had witnessed his awareness of God's death.

Ichigo had to shake his head roughly to try and clear his mind.

The memories were not his, but they were no longer discernible from his own past. The anger, the hatred he felt towards the green eyed man was _his._ It was a consuming hate, clouding his ability to think.

"Samael?" Michael asked softly.

"Not quite," Ichigo growled, glaring as Samael's voice rang out in his mind in response.

He couldn't help himself. That gaze and soft voice, the very same that had stripped him of all purpose…Ichigo had felt it. Truly _felt_ the anguish that came from his words.

What had happened? Why were these thoughts his? Why were memories from centuries before he was even a thought burned into his very being?

Attempting to focus once more, the tinkling of metal against metal drew his gaze to his outstretched arms.

" _ **A prisoner once more. What clearer indication of their intention?"**_

Ichigo scowled at the voice in his mind before taking a deep breath. First, Samael could only chant his made up mantra, yet now he couldn't stop speaking.

This was all still too much.

Thoughts that were not his own, memories woven into his past, and chains hanging him as if he were a monster. What had his life come to?

Noticing movement behind his outstretched arms, Ichigo turned to see…wings?!

His confusion began to grow as he saw pale grey, feathered wings spread wide behind him, flapping slightly as his back spasmed. The more he struggled, the more they twitched and flapped, the wind buffeting him within his shackles.

" _ **Tokens of your new existence."**_

Confusion gave way to panic as a larger set of wings spread, the pair a leathery version of the same color. The wings were monstrous, with menacing talons jutting from the joints.

 _What in the Hell?!_

Clenching his teeth, Ichigo hissed as he felt a sharp pain in his lip. Using his tongue, he traced his teeth only to find two were far longer than the rest. Two in the place where he had noticed fangs in Samael.

Perhaps he truly was a monster.

What had Samael done to him? What had _God_ done to him?

Anger began to override his panic. Who was this God to manipulate people as if they were toys? Who were these beings that wished to take everything from him?! Stripping his power, his life, his purpose…forcing him to destroy realms…causing him to kill…

"No!"

Ichigo began pulling against the chains in earnest as the question he had so desperately wanted an answer to came crashing into the forefront of his mind, all else fading to nothingness.

Nothing else existed, nothing else mattered. His wings, the fangs that pierced his lips, the chains that bound him, nothing!

" _Is she…did I…is she alive?!"_ he howled aloud, his mind losing itself in a haze of terror.

He must have killed her. Why else would they bind him so? It had to be! He had truly lost himself if he had been able to murder her. The thoughts, the memories made a sick sort of sense, as there could be nothing of 'Ichigo' left.

 _No! No no no!_

He was thrashing wildly, blood seeping from beneath the shackles that held firm no matter how hard he pulled. He had to get out, he had to _know._ Was he a murderer? Had he killed that poor woman who had been unable to kill him?

" _No!"_ he shouted, his throat strained to the extreme.

Ichigo remembered her tears, the tremor in her voice when he had asked her to kill him. He remembered the softness of her eyes, and the sadness within. The woman had been pure, kindness radiating off of her in waves.

She had been trying to save him, and he had ki—

He had ki—

Ichigo clenched clenched his eyes and grit his teeth, trying to cast the thought from his mind. He couldn't bring himself to say it. He couldn't bear to accept that he had not been strong enough to save her from himself.

Yet the thoughts persisted. The feeling of her throat in his hands, the sounds of her ragged breaths, the weakening of her struggles and slowing of her pulse against his very skin.

Tears burned hot trails of guilt down his cheeks. Tears for what he had lost, for what he had taken.

There were no words to describe the monster that he was. Nothing to elucidate the weakness of his heart that would have allowed his hands to commit such a crime.

His agony was halted as two warm, gentle hands cradled and stroked his face.

"Ichigo! Ichigo, please! Calm yourself, shhhh."

The world slowed. His body, mind and heart paused at the soft touches that caressed his cheek. That voice, _that_ _voice_ was familiar. That voice could only belong to one being.

 _Her_.

Slowly opening his eyes, the face that had tormented his heart so savagely now gazed eagerly at him once more in sadness and concern.

Her golden blonde hair, her sapphire blue eyes, her pale, fair skin were all unmarred. She was pristine, aside from the glistening tears that fell from her eyes. Unable to focus on her beauty, confusion burned within Ichigo's mind.

"You…you're alive?"

Her face softened, her features morphing into a gentle smile as she held his attention. Wiping her eye with one hand, her other fingers brushed tenderly against his cheeks, wiping the few tears that had fallen down Ichigo's cheeks.

"Ichigo, I am alive. Please, don't be afraid. I am right here."

He couldn't speak. All of the voices, the maelstrom of memories and sensations, everything stopped at the woman's touch.

Ichigo's body fell limp in the chains that bound him. The woman's compassionate touch never left him, and his world remained at peace. Relief coursed through him. She was alive and well, standing before him.

 _She's alive!_

He wasn't completely lost. There was still, somewhere within the creature he had become, something of 'Ichigo' left. He grasped desperately at this fact, clinging to it with all he had. Though he clearly had much to atone for, and much to learn of his current state, there was hope!

"Are you ok?" he finally whispered, his voice nearly spent.

The answering smile was blinding, stunning him momentarily, filling his chest with warmth. Her eyes and expression held such kindness, making it impossible for him to be aware of anything other than her.

"I am fine, Ichigo. Please, do not worry yourself."

"But I…I don't even know your name. I almost killed you and I don't know your name."

"Gabriel. My name is Gabriel, and you didn't almost kill me. Ichigo, you _saved_ me. Do you not remember? You tried to have me kill you, and you even cut off your own arm to protect me. You were so brave, so strong to be able to hold Samael off enough to live up to your name."

He could only shake his head as her words echoed within his battered mind. Surely she was mistaken. He remembered every detail, from the destroyed realm of Heaven to each moment that her neck was gripped tightly in his hands. He remembered _trying,_ making every effort to take every bit of life from her.

Yet, the agony could not take a firm hold. Gabriel's touch inexplicably kept the horrors at bay, keeping his mind at peace and filling him with her warmth. Her gentle words and tender touch calmed the chaos within, chasing the darkness from the forefront of his mind.

"Oh Ichigo, please don't be sad. I have learned so much about you, and I _know_ that you saved me."

Searching her eyes for answers, he quickly discovered that it was becoming far too easy for him to lose himself within her gaze. Her sapphire eyes held the peace and serenity that he so desperately sought. Whoever this Gabriel was, Ichigo knew he would be damned before he let harm come to her again.

How could Samael have wanted to hurt such a pure being?

Fixing his gaze to hers, Ichigo earnestly promised, "I'm…I'm sorry that I hurt you. I swear, I'll never do that again."

Her smile never wavered. Shaking her head indulgently, Gabriel gently brushed his hair from his face as she softly replied.

"Such a brave young man to shoulder such responsibilities. Please, do not let your heart be troubled. Your life may have taken a new path, but I believe you to be up to the challenge."

An intentional throat clearing broke the moment, and a bubbly feminine voice called out, "Speaking of which, we'd like to talk to him about that."

 **XXXXXX**

Genryusai Shigekuni Yamamoto sighed as he waited.

Looking up to a pair of ornately decorated wooden doors, he couldn't help but think back over the latest season of his life.

He was tired, worn from months of nonsense and overpowered brats running rampant within his domain. So much treachery, and infinitely more pain caused by three captains that _he_ had promoted. Three men that had earned his approval, gained his trust, and had served valiantly for nearly a century.

They had been such powerful and promising kids. That is, until that arrogant fool Aizen had corrupted the other two, robbing them of their sense and their honor. Not only that, but Aizen had indirectly created and nurtured the largest headache that Yamamoto could remember having.

Ichigo Kurosaki.

What a pain in his ass that boy was.

 _Is. What a pain in the ass Ichigo Kurosaki still is,_ he corrected himself in annoyance as he looked once more to the doors.

In all honesty, Yamamoto actually admired aspects of the boy. He was headstrong, willful, loyal to a fault, and only concerned with doing what he thought was right. Many of Ichigo's traits would have made him a worthy addition to the ranks of the Shinigami.

Yet, for some reason or another, it always came down to the boy making a short-sighted choice that risked his life and the lives of others. Storming a military area with immature powers and other teenagers, crashing through the gates of Hell, running off to Hueco Mundo in a rescue effort of one girl.

Noble tasks they may have been, yet all providing a stunning lack of vision.

Did the boy have no concept of how his actions influenced the world? Especially his most recent ones.

Yamamoto was still not completely convinced that Ichigo Kurosaki was simply 'chosen' by the Hogyoku. After all that had happened, such an innocuous solution was just too simple. While there had been no lie detectable in the young man's gaze, he was forced to admit that he had been fooled by a master manipulator before.

There was simply no way that he could assume the best when he arrived at the end of their fiercest battles to find the one who had defeated the man that they couldn't bearing the object that had enabled the entire war.

Those events were simply compounded by the facts that the soldiers sent after him came back with news that Ichigo had fled to Greece and found his way into the Underworld, which had nearly set off another war within his contingent of captains.

Yamamoto assumed that he had been summoned for that reason. Effectively sending something like the Hogyoku into the hands of Hades was not something that would be taken lightly, but also shaming the court guard squads with his criminalization of one of their greatest heroes would earn him no favors.

Ignoring the pun, he knew that there would be hell to pay.

His patience began to wane as he stood before the beautiful entrance, studying the intricacy of the artwork.

Doors of elegant mahogany were ornately decorated with gold and red images of the splendor of Shinto mythology. Resplendent scenes of the sun told the story of Japan's illustrious history and the majesty of it's goddess.

Taking a calming breath, Yamamoto knew that his ire was of no use here. Having been sent from the Soul King's palace itself, the Shinigami Head Captain felt the gravity of where he now was, and by whom he was summoned.

Amaterasu.

He was not looking forward to this meeting in the least. He had met her many centuries ago when the Soul King had first granted him permission to establish the court guard squads, and was not wanting to see her again under such circumstances.

Though a wise and powerful goddess, Amaterasu was not known for her 'understanding' nature. However, she was quite partial to heroes, many of whom she called her children. Yamamoto knew this, as his own heroics had earned her praise those many years ago.

She was fiercely protective, forcing the Soul King—and by extension, himself— to keep Soul Society and the Shinto afterlife almost completely cut off from the rest of the world and their pantheons. Even her own existence was a secret kept from the Shinigami.

Due to her undying love of her land's Edo Period, Soul Society's makeup and exclusion from the rest of the world allowed her to keep it as her own sanctuary. Though, her hands-off approach made it into more of what the humans called a 'snow-globe'.

Though she knew that there would be inevitable interactions, such things were kept to a minimum for the Shinigami. Amaterasu mostly left inter-faction diplomatic matters to her Yokai leader Yasaka, who she claimed was far more personable than Genryusai.

Not that he disagreed.

Regardless, to cross Amaterasu was to court destruction, and Genryusai Yamamoto felt that—this time— he had courted all too well.

His impatience was halted as the rarely heard voice of his zanpakuto whispered within his mind.

" **You betrayed one of her greatest heroes to a horrible fate on a guess, and sent something with as much potential as the Hogyoku into the hands of one of the world's most powerful gods. Mother will be quite displeased with you."**

Yamamoto was unable to respond as the doors before him began to open. Focusing his attention forward, he was slightly surprised to see a young man walking out accompanied by a large wave of heat.

 _This is not a good sign._

Standing nearly a head taller than himself, the man's pitch black hair fluttered behind him in the stirred air. Charm emanated from the fair man and turbulent golden eyes sparkled above a devilish smirk.

Yet his aura was tumultuous, belying the calm and regal persona he reflected. His movements seemed to generate a metallic tang of electricity on the air that cloyed the senses. The man's steps were smooth, though his aggressive stance informed Yamamoto just who he was looking at.

"Well hello, old man Yamamoto! Looks like you are right on time."

Grunting his displeasure at the lack of respect from the youthful looking man, Yamamoto nevertheless slightly bowed forward.

"Greetings, Lord Susanoo."

"You have really done it, this time. I haven't seen her like this since I destroyed her fields. It has me quite excited, because if you push her only a little further, she just may be ready to fight me all-out once more."

 _Insolent brat._

The Head Captain would certainly show the respect due the station of the gods of his homeland, yet it was at moments like this that he wished that he could release Ryujinn Jakka and teach the storm god a lesson in manners. Susanoo had even offered to fight once—demanded, more like it— and what a tempting offer it had been…

 _Still, as it is clear that he will not, one must set an example._

"It was not, and is not, my intention to antagonize Lady Amaterasu," Yamamoto muttered, displeased with the temperamental god's excitement for battle.

"Come come now, I do not think I can believe that," Susanoo crowed, his eyes tempestuous as he leaned beside the bowing captain to whisper in his ear.

"Whether you meant it or not, be on your guard. _Mommy's mad_."

With an amused chuckle, Susanoo straightened and walked past Yamamoto, slowly disappearing into nothingness.

Feeling the searing heat emanating from the still open door, dissipating what was left of the storm god's presence, Yamamoto knew that 'Mother' was indeed quite furious.

Mentally girding himself, he walked forward into Amaterasu's throne room.

 **XXXXXX**

Ichigo was twisting his wrists within his rearranged shackles as he slowly made his way to the nearest chair placed beneath a luxurious long table.

Apparently his conversation with Gabriel had made enough of an impression on the various people gathered to allow him to be released from the golden chains that had held him in the air and into golden cuffs that bound his hands together, as well as chained them to his ankles.

That meant nothing about the tension within the room, however.

Looking to his right, he noticed his father standing by him impatiently.

 _Hovering is more like it. Damn mother hen._

There was no heat to his thoughts, however. It had been reassuring to see the old man acting like the crazy dad he always was. He couldn't say that he was grateful for such a hard head crashing into his own, but it had clearly been helpful.

To his left, he observed Gabriel still standing near him.

Ichigo could not deny the warmth he still felt. Her proximity was soothing, an answer to the question that had burned so deeply within his heart. Her presence brought a warning, however, as to the dark potential lurking just beneath the surface.

 _Just what am I capable of?_

A dark shudder deep within his mind told him that it was a question he may not want the answer to.

He had gotten something of a hint. The moment that Gabriel's hands had left his face, whispers began to once more echo within his mind. However in place of the wild bellows and mad ravings that had become the norm, the whispers were now restrained, a subtle stream that flowed within his mind.

Samael, it seemed, had chosen a new approach. Ichigo felt a twinge, as if there was a snake slithering within the recesses of his mind. A surge of warmth from the Hogyoku was comforting, but not enough to quell the worry of just what his newest acquisition could be planning.

Still, he could not help continuously thinking about the fact that seeing the breathtaking angel alive and well, smiling and acting so gentle with him, gave him hope that no matter what God or Samael had done to him, he was still Ichigo.

A loud _smack_ and mild pain in the back of his head interrupted his thoughts with a red surge of anger.

"Son, you can stare at the pretty lady all you want later. Right now, we've got to tell these people what's going on with you."

Flashing a glare to his father, Ichigo felt a flare of rage roar within him. The touch, such familiarity, was unacceptable. His hands tightened into fists. Who would dare to lay a hand on—

 _Stop! It's dad!_

The flare burned its way to his throat. Gripping his fists tighter, Ichigo took a shaky breath and bit the inside of his cheek. Exerting as much focus as he could muster, he willed down the unexpected rage.

Apparently, Samael had been far busier within his mind than he had anticipated.

Feeling eyes upon him, he released his hands and sighed. He couldn't let whoever these people were know that he had just wanted to attack his own father.

Turning to the elder Kurosaki, Ichigo grunted, "Ow. Keep those paws you call hands to yourself, you psychotic old fart!"

His father immediately breathed in in visible relief. Smirking, he grunted, "Just shut up and sit down, Casanova."

"Yes, why don't we get this started, Kurosaki-san?" Kisuke interjected, a wary look on his face as he watched events unfold.

Finally taking a seat, Ichigo sensed more than saw Kisuke and his father take the seats to one side, while Gabriel took the seat on the other. Glancing at her, he saw that her smile had dimmed to a worried frown as she met the gazes of those across from her.

Another surge of strong emotion flooded through him. He wanted that smile back. That smile stopped the chaos within him, made him feel something other than anger and hate. Whatever it was that made her smile fall had to be stopped.

 _Now._

Following her gaze, Ichigo zeroed in on Michael and before thinking, snapped, "What do you want?"

He knew that it was the wrong way to start such an important conversation, but the moment his eyes met Michael's, surges of fury came roaring back. Centuries of burning hatred, bitter jealousy, and a newfound loathing for the current expression on Gabriel's face overrode his manners, demanding answers.

It seemed that his words were expected.

"Heh," the man on the far left chuckled. Turning his attention, Ichigo saw a man with dark hair and blonde bangs smiling in a way that was far too similar to how Kisuke often did.

"Straight to the point, I like it."

"I suppose that brief introductions are in order. Ichigo Kurosaki, meet Azazel—Governor General of the Fallen Angel faction," Michael began, indicating the man who had chuckled.

"This is Sirzechs Lucifer, and Serafall Leviathan, both Maous of the underworld," Michael finished, indicating the crimson haired man and widely smiling dark haired woman who giggled lightly and waved at him when introduced.

"And you're Michael, an Angel from Heaven," Ichigo interrupted, leveling a glare at the Archangel. "I know all too well who you are."

Taking a deep breath, Ichigo shook his head and continued.

"Let me save you some time, I don't have a clue what any of this shit means other than Samael was somehow attached to my soul, I attacked Heaven, and now I have a lot of scattered memories that aren't mine, that _shouldn't_ be mine."

Though far too many questions raced through is mind, he felt an unease at their judging stares. He did not trust these men and this woman. Their smiles seemed forced, never meeting their hardened, calculating eyes.

Ichigo sensed innumerable calculations running through his own mind. More focused, pointed whispers floated across his consciousness in Samael's voice.

 _Michael's sincerity can only be matched by his devotion to his duty. His sycophancy to God is beyond measure—regardless of…what happened. The second seraph will certainly follow that pattern._

 _The descendants of Satan and Leviathan will only seek to increase that which they currently possess. The mind of a devil is a labyrinth of deception and greed._

 _Azazel possesses a brilliant mind, yet has always been reactive in nature. What does he seek to gain?_

"We can talk about just how unfair all this 'shit' is, if that's what you really want," Azazel said, interrupting the stream of consciousness while leaning casually on a fist. "Or would you like us to catch you up to speed?"

Raising a finger, he said, "But we need to know a few things first. So, would you mind to settle down and actually help us to know just how you're doing having Samael as a Sacred Gear? From the looks of it, it's a pretty tentative lid you have on him right now."

"I would have to agree," the man who had been introduced as Sirzechs Lucifer added. "The looks you have been giving Michael are pretty telling."

The silence that fell over the table was tense. Seeing several people who were clearly important for some reason or another staring at him like he was a time-bomb was annoying.

Incredibly annoying. Infuriating.

 _What is going on?_

Ichigo had never felt anger rise and fall this quickly before, yet his mind now seemed hardwired for it. Willing the aggressive feelings down, he gripped an arm of his chair.

"That's because I can remember him. I can remember Michael standing over me when _He_ lost his patience with his lesser half," Ichigo snapped, his gaze not leaving Michael. "I remember Michael not moving a muscle as I was stripped almost completely from history, itself. Then, who knows how many years later, Michael again arrives to steal every ounce of purpose away."

"Ichigo-kun, _you_ didn't see those events. They were things that happened to Samael," Serafall quickly said, a concerned look on her face as she looked to the other leaders.

He frowned. Did they think he didn't know that? What were they actually trying to see, how he was doing, or—

" _ **This is clearly your risk assessment, Ichigo. They fear my influence, and want to know what you are—what I've done to you."**_

'…'

Ichigo had no response. What he just heard within the recesses of his mind conflicted everything that he knew about the creature now bound to his soul. Why was Samael helping?

" _ **Use your sense, boy. My survival is contingent upon yours. We are bound together for eternity, and practicality dictates I assist you when you are trying to get us imprisoned or killed."**_ the voice scoffed, the faint tinkling of metal chains ringing out with it.

 _Looks like Hogyoku is helping out,_ Ichigo thought, breathing slightly easier with the knowledge that Hogyoku had restrained Samael for what was turning out to be an incredibly important meeting for him.

"Yeah, I'm well aware of that," he sighed, turning his attention back to Serafall. What was he to tell them? Samael was right, they were looking at him like they were trying to dissect his mind.

 _Screw it, I don't have patience for lies right now._

"Look, I don't know what all happened, or what's happening, but I've got…extra thoughts…in my head. There are memories, things that aren't mine that are as clear as any of my own. The thing is, most of them feel like they _are_ mine. I feel pissed, mad as hell at Michael. I feel loathing for your very existence, and I can't even say that I don't know why."

"So you are saying that you have gained some of Samael's memories? How can that be possible?" Michael asked, giving a confused look to Azazel.

Knowing it wouldn't bode well, Ichigo shrugged and gave the only answer he knew.

"Hogyoku."

His answer had far less impact than he expected.

The four leaders in front of him simply looked between themselves.

"Ichigo," Urahara said quietly, "I told them as much as I could about the Hogyoku. They know that it chose you, and roughly what it's capable of."

"We are aware of quite a lot of things, Ichigo. We just need to know things from your perspective," Sirzechs added.

Rubbing his temples, Ichigo looked once more at the large wings extending from his back and asked, "If you know all this, then cut the crap and get to what it is you want to talk about. I am in no mood to do some kind of dance, because if you couldn't already tell, I want some answers of my own."

Chuckling yet again, Azazel said, "You're an interesting kid. Fine, we can get to the chase. I like peace. I _love_ peace. Peace means I get to do what I like to do rather than fighting senseless battles. Now, you've just gained an insanely powerful orb and a Sacred Gear of a being that I know firsthand is beyond any definition of powerful. Problem is that it took you over, destroyed most of Heaven—good job on Fifth Heaven, by the way— and almost killed the lovely Gabriel here," he said with a slight nod to the angel across from him.

Leaning forward, the Fallen Angel placed his chin on his steepled fingers.

"So, since you know that you have become a major player in the supernatural world at large, my question is simple. What kinda threat are you?"

"…"

Ichigo couldn't answer. He had no answer. He had known, been prepared for this question, yet there was no way for him to know. Of course they would want to know. It only made sense, right?

 _What kind of threat are you? Am I?_

What was the answer? He had done those things. Could he start more battles? Going by the way he felt when looking at Michael, he couldn't deny the possibility. Samael had no reliable answers, and Hogyoku couldn't know.

Ichigo couldn't know.

"I don't know," he whispered, the words drawing a angry hiss from within his mind.

"You don't know?" Sirzechs asked, looking dissatisfied with the answer.

"No, I don't," Ichigo snapped, his anger flaring once more.

" _ **Fool! You truly are actively doing all you can to get yourself imprisoned, or killed! The devils care nothing for you, only concerned with what serves them best. Michael only cares for what God wants…wanted. Azazel's mind is beyond imagining. All of them are. Stop giving them the tools that they require to destroy you."**_

Though the voice unheard by all but him was unwelcome, the words were entirely too possible to ignore.

Ichigo began to feel uneasy, shifting in his seat as his discomfort grew. Whispers grew louder, clouding his ability to think. They, however, ceased when a gentle hand grasped his.

Once more, everything stopped. Voices, the building tension, all of it.

"Ichigo, it is ok," Gabriel whispered softly, her voice breaking through the tension and chaos.

Turning to see her, she gave him another small smile. "Try to relax," she continued. "Think."

Did they think he wasn't taking this seriously? That he was telling them these things for his own amusement?

Sighing, he softly replied to Gabriel, "I have been thinking, and I mean it. I don't know what kind of threat I am."

"Is that so?" Kisuke drawled, interrupting the conversation.

Leaning forward to see around his father, Ichigo looked at the contemplative look on his mentor's face. Long, pale fingers drew untraceable shapes on the surface of the table while the other hand tapped his fan to his chin.

The gears in Kisuke's head were turning, yet Ichigo had no idea as to what that meant.

 _Tell me you have at least some kind of idea what's going on._

"Yeah…" Ichigo murmured, still trying to decipher the look. He was trying not to get his hopes up that one of the few people on his side would have answers, but the look of concentration on his mentor's face was hard to ignore.

"From what Azazel has told me, these Sacred Gears sound like they function an awful lot like zanpakutos. Not exactly, of course, but there's a lot that works the same," he said, his eyes flicking about the glossy surface.

When the ensuing silence began to stretch, Serafall clicked her nails on the table as she asked, "That sounds very interesting, I will admit, but it feels a little off the point. Or is there somewhere you were going with this line of thought, Urahara-san?"

"…three spirits in one soul…memories shared, thoughts…took control…"

All eyes were upon the now-muttering shinigami. He was transfixed on his swirling fingertips, moving them as if writing.

"…took control…took control. Why am I thinking that? Why is that…?"

"Three spirits, one soul. Shared memories and thoughts. So what's important about taking control?" Azazel asked as he shifted, leaning further over the table, clearly intrigued by the genius shinigami.

"He took control."

"Samael took control of Ichigo's body, that's right."

"Samael? Samael and Hogyoku…took control…"

Ichigo's patience waned. Watching his mentor having a brainstorm with the leader of the Fallen Angels that actually sounded more like them falling in love over a guessing game was wearing on his nerves. What did it matter? Was he wondering if Samael would take control again?

Slapping his palm on the table, Ichigo snapped, "We know this already! What does it matter?"

Turning with a small, "Hm?", Urahara smirked before snapping his fan shut.

"Because it's happened before. A couple of times, actually."

"What the hell are you— wait, what does _that_ have to do with it?"

Ichigo suddenly knew exactly what he was referring to, likely far more than the former captain could guess.

 _Zangetsu, when he took control. Wait, how does he know about that?_

"Well, that makes things a bit more straightforward," Kisuke said, turning back to the gathered leaders.

Sharing a confused look with his fellow Maou, Sirzechs asked, "Would you mind telling us how?"

Leaning back with a pleased smile on his face, Kisuke replied, "Simple! We just make him activate his Sacred Gear and release Hogyoku's power simultaneously."

The blank stares that met him from Michael and Sirzechs made him chuckle.

"You look surprised. Everything up to this point has simply been a series of freak incidents caused by unfortunate events. Azazel, you claimed that Sacred Gears are naturally born within humans, yes? If that's the case, clearly Ichigo is an exception to this rule since his was forced upon him."

Leaning back further, he kicked his feet up onto the table and continued, "Not to mention, aside from being chosen to bear the hogyoku, the lovely Gabriel here also reincarnated him into a Seraph. We'll explain later, Ichigo. So, with all of these things piling up, why not try taking things the way that they're naturally supposed to happen? It's much like how Ichigo gained his spiritual powers. I'd be willing to wager that if we can fully activate the Sacred Gear, it should finalize these processes and maybe give Ichigo _some_ measure of control."

"Reincarnated as a Seraph?! What are you talking about? You can't drop something like that on me and expect me to just go with it! What did they do to me?" Ichigo shouted.

"Shut up and listen! He said he'd tell you later, jackass!" Isshin shouted, his hand once more finding the back of Ichigo's head. Noticing the uncharacteristically pointed look that he was receiving from his father, Ichigo bit back a retort and sat in his seat.

"Are you seriously attempting to suggest that we release Samael once more?" Michael interrupted, his voice thick with skepticism.

"The power that destroyed most of Heaven, which has been upgraded I might add, we want to release that again? This entire complex could be destroyed, and he could certainly go wild like last time," he clarified.

"It could work," Azazel muttered, now sitting back with his fingertips tapping his chin.

"So you're going along with this?" Sirzechs added, sharing Michael's dubious expression.

"Of course. I've been doing some work with Sacred Gears, even managed to make one. It took some tweaking, and the source for mine was actually friendly, but to make it work I ended up having to force its activation."

There was a brief pause in the conversation before Michael sighed in exasperation.

"I hardly think that more kitchen cutlery is comparable to what we're talking about unleashing" he said, his facial expression matching his tone.

Azazel paused, his head turning owlishly to Michael in incredulity.

"Really? Right now, of all the times to bring that up, you thought that this was one of them?"

A few questionable coughs were quickly covered by Serafall, Michael and Sirzechs. Confused, Ichigo looked to his father and Kisuke to see they were just as bewildered as he was. Gabriel however, used a hand to try and cover the small smirk on her face.

Clearly, he had missed some kind of joke. Were they not taking this seriously?

"What I am talking about is way different than that! And don't give me any crap, either, because you know it worked!" the affronted man exclaimed as he struck his fist on the table. Leaning forward to look across Serafall to the subtly smirking angel, he continued.

"The Grigori council had to confiscate it because it was too effective! You know it worked, so you can take your pompous gold feathers and shove them up your—"

"Azazel!" Serafall said chidingly, slapping his shoulder lightly. "You should watch what you say in front of guests!"

Dragging his hand down his face, the fallen angel grumbled, "Unbelievable. Of course you'd take his side, wouldn't you? Regardless, don't you think we should get back to the matter at hand?"

"Yes yes, quite right. It is actually a bit unnerving, releasing Samael. I agree with Michael, not to mention that this is far from an ideal location for something as potentially violent as that," Sirzechs added, sounding more at ease after hearing Azazel speak.

"In addition to that," Michael continued, "Several, if not all of us would have to be present in case we needed to contain him."

"Contain me?" Ichigo asked, his words an aggressive dare as his hard gaze held the Archangel's.

"Of course," Azazel interrupted with a casual wave of his hand.

"You don't think that you can just obliterate parts of Heaven, then be let out to wander on your own without us verifying a few things, do you? From what Michael told us, Samael had one heck of a romp with your body and we have to make sure it can't happen again."

Ichigo paused, considering the man's words before nodding sharply once. Regardless of his feelings on the matter, he could understand that reasoning.

He wanted to be sure that it couldn't happen again, himself. Looking around the room, however, he knew that it would be a difficult task, made more so by the man across from him.

Even the sight of the man caused a stirring within his mind. It worried Ichigo to know that Samael was coiled, prepared to strike at the first sign of weakness, and Michael's presence only seemed to exacerbate that.

"It might be better if Michael didn't come," Ichigo said, remembering flashes of what had happened in Heaven. Eying the Archangel, he sensed the festering anger and resentment, the enmity that was so deeply rooted within his own mind.

Dark whispers of nameless tortures rang through his mind at the sight of those sad green eyes and melancholy smile.

He _really_ wanted to be sure that it couldn't happen again.

"Actually, it would be best if all who are present now were there to observe. It would not only show your control, but help to allay fears for all here," Sirzechs replied with a tone of finality.

"You can do this, Ichigo-kun. We've heard such great things about you, I know you can do it," Serafall encouraged, smiling widely at him.

Ichigo paused, unsure of how to respond to the enthusiastic Maou. Her near-constant beaming smile was unnerving, and he wracked his mind to try and find its inspiration. His thoughts were muddled further as he heard a disapproving sound from Gabriel.

Meeting her troubled gaze, he asked, "Are you worried? Don't be. I promised you I'd never hurt you again, and I meant it."

"Oh no, I believe you," she replied kindly, cutting her eyes in a quick glance at Serafall before smiling at him once more. "She is right, Ichigo, you can do this."

"We can go to the Underworld," Serafall offered, an indecipherable glimmer in her eye.

Continuing sweetly, she said, "There are plenty of places within my domain where we would be uninterrupted. Why, you may like it so much there Ichigo that you want to stay!"

Seeing Gabriel tense and turn a surprised expression at Serafall, Ichigo frowned. Looking questioningly at the still sweetly smiling Maou, he glanced to his side as he noticed subtle, knowing looks being traded between the three male faction leaders.

 _What exactly is it that I am missing here?_ he thought, only to receive a strong wave of frustration from Samael.

"Actually, I have a better location. Quite a bit more neutral, and much less likely to cause damage should things get exciting," Kisuke chimed in jovially. "We're in luck, too, as Hueco Mundo is going to be pretty calm this soon after the war."

"What's wrong with the Underworld?" Serafall asked, her face slipping into a pout.

"As mister Urahara has so kindly explained, if would be a far more neutral location. It would be far too easy for Michael and myself to be recognized within the Underworld, no matter how remote it may be considered," Gabriel explained quickly, giving a sharp look to her brother.

For some reason unknown to Ichigo, the childishly dressed Leviathan's face fell, her expression frigid.

 _I know it's probably her home, but even I know that angels in the Underworld doesn't sound like a great idea. What's her problem?_

Clearly leaping at a chance to move beyond the tension that was building within the room, several, "Okay! Sounds good! Let's go!" sounded out, drawing the room's attention.

"Wait," Ichigo growled, frustrated as everyone began to stand, their chairs gliding noiselessly over the carpeted floors. While he understood the reasons for what was about to happen, no one had even tried to let him ask a question.

"I still have no idea what the hell happened to me! I've got powers that make no sense, voices in my head, and I…I've got wings, damn it!"

"Relax, Kurosaki-san," Urahara said lightly. "While I agree that we should be expeditious about determining your powers, I am quite certain that Gabriel, Azazel and Michael would be more than happy to fill you in on our way.

Hearing murmurs of agreement from those mentioned, Ichigo sat in astonishment. These people went from treating him as if he were a bomb to wanting to take a field trip!

Yet, as he watched the faction leaders standing, he caught several sharp glances in his direction. More calculation, more concern.

Maybe they weren't so comfortable around him after all.

Ichigo grit his teeth in frustration. So much was still unknown, still a mystery to him. He would follow his father and Kisuke's lead, for the moment. However, answers had to come…soon.

Sighing as he rose to his feet, he followed them to the door.

 **XXXXXX**

Yamamoto grimaced as he stood before Amaterasu's throne.

Even for him, the heat was stifling, pressing uncomfortably against his skin.

"…cannot believe that my most trusted Son, the man to whom I have given full reign over every generation of Shinigami, could be so foolish!" she snapped, the room's temperature elevating with her words.

Yamamoto quietly sighed. This had been going on for quite a while.

The moment he had stepped through the door, he had felt a slight awe at the scene before him. A beautiful, narrow marble walkway led out into an infinite cosmos. To all sides the Captain Commander could see vast reaches of nothingness littered with countless brilliant stars.

Yet, his attention was drawn to the majestic scene before him, consuming the end of the path. Almost too bright to see, sitting on her magnificent throne of light, Amaterasu looked down upon him.

She was completely other, apart from any definition borne of mortal tongue.

Ageless in her beauty, her lustrous raven hair flowed over her exposed, fair shoulders, framing her sculpted face.

Divine in presence, her ancient power _was_ the very atmosphere he found himself within.

Amaterasu, goddess of sun and universe. Mother to her beloved Children.

"…have disgraced your illustrious post, you have stained the honor of the Court Guard Squads, and you have betrayed your Mother. You have made a mockery of my grace and my love, treating my Children as though…"

Amaterasu, furious Mother.

"You have forced my Child from me, Genryusai. My beloved Son needed the love of his Mother, of his Family, yet was met with fear and turned away into hands of hate!"

Amaterasu, _grieving_ Mother?

Yamamoto flinched at the slight break in the wondrous voice of the sun goddess. Unable to help himself, he looked up into the divine face that had so long ago smiled upon him.

He immediately wished that he had not.

The anger was still present, even tangibly growing, yet it was the sorrow within her eyes that cut him to his core.

Out of his countless encounters and acquaintances that he had amassed over his life, Amaterasu was the one being that had made her way past his gruff, hardened exterior and evoked true sentiment. Her peaceful touch and soothing words had made a lasting impression.

In all actuality, it did not feel as if it were that long ago when she had calmed his own temper, giving him direction for his substantial power and newfound leadership. It was because of her very nature that he served her loyally, his devotion and respect earned by her wisdom and her love for her Children.

She was the one being who could affect him so deeply, and affect him she did.

"My apologies, Lady Amaterasu," he grumbled, his voice like gravel. "I simply made the choice I thought best for Soul Society with the information I had."

"I have not asked for your excuses or justifications! That boy saved you, saved you all. He had _more_ than earned the benefit of the doubt. Do you think me ignorant of this Hogyoku? Born from the souls of so many of my Children, its perverse beginnings gave way for pure potential. Yet you judged a boy based on the actions of one accursed man, and sent him straight into the arms of evil."

"I apologize, Lady Amaterasu. It was not my intention to send him into such a realm as the Underworld. Though I pursued him, his loss in such a manner is regrettable."

The heat that surrounded him spiked, a searing flame not felt since his last release of bankai. Further and further the temperature climbed, angry tongues of flame blistering his flesh. The sun goddess' control was faltering as she became perilously close to revealing her true form, her beauty terrible, her purity absolute.

"Do not dare patronize me with empty platitudes, Genryusai! His loss? Have you any idea of what you have done, what you have unleashed?" Amaterasu snapped, flicking her wrist and sending a slightly smoking file skittering across the floor to where Yamamoto stood.

Giving him the chance to read, she felt a morbid satisfaction at the shock and regret that flashed across his face.

It was his just reward, seeing what he had started—what he had inadvertently set into motion. Amaterasu did not want to be mad at one of her most beloved Sons, but Genryusai Yamamoto had crossed a nearly unforgivable line. A line that—now crossed— even she had no idea how it would affect the world around them.

That did not mean she wouldn't try to reach out to the poor child.

"He has not been cursed, he has been _made_ a curse. Samael is far more than a Fallen Angel, more than a dragon. The consequences of this are far beyond your imagining. It has already begun. Susanoo has brought word of what has so recently occurred, what he has done since escaping Hades realm."

Finally closing the file, Yamamoto bowed his head as history itself mocked him. Yet again, he failed his sacred charge. Yet again, his actions had jeopardized his beloved home and the world around them.

"I would make this right. What would you have me do, Lady Amaterasu?"

Timeless eyes peered beyond his simple gaze, searching the very depths of his soul. Her wrath, her pain, all born of his choice pressed against his mind, insistent.

With a sigh, Amaterasu diminished her scorching anger. What was done was done, and to further chastise her Captain-Commander would do nothing for their situation. However, inaction was unacceptable.

Descending gracefully from her lofty throne, she approached the man who had faithfully served her for so long. Reaching out with delicate, sculpted fingers, she gently lifted his chin to meet her gaze.

"The danger that faces my young Ichigo is just as potent from within as it is from other factions, if not more so. I do not charge you with simply protecting Ichigo Kurosaki, my stolen Son, from sword and spear. You will do what it takes to protect him from himself."

 **XXXXXX**

Gabriel sighed in bitter relief as she caught a glimpse of the unending night of the realm known as Hueco Mundo.

The journey had been quite a tumultuous one, and she was glad to soon be free of the oppressive pressures that were so prevalent within the dimensional void, not the least of which was Ichigo Kurosaki's anger.

As they had travelled along the fascinating pathway of what she had been told was something called _reiatsu,_ Ichigo had been insistent on learning just what had happened to him, as well as what he himself had done.

He had taken many of the revelations quite well, all things considered, most likely due to his prior knowledge of them.

It had been somewhat surprising that there had been minimal reaction to the fact that he was now eternally bound to a being that was named the 'Venom of God'. Even less at the fact that he had all but decimated one of the purest realms in existence.

 _That's not entirely true,_ she thought to herself as she flew beside the still-shackled young man.

The look on his face, the deep sorrow within his eyes as he heard Michael's recounting of his actions, was hard for her to take. He had said little, but he could not fully suppress the grief within.

She had been unable to focus on his grief for long, however, as Michael had then explained what had happened when she had tried to place her Joker card within him, and eventually the King card that took.

It had taken an in-depth conversation as to the merits and abilities of the Holy Card system, as well as the discovery that the remainder of his own deck could be granted to him once he had satisfied the curiosity of the factions, but he seemed to grasp it well.

Too well.

The betrayed expression that crossed his face had wounded her profoundly. He had looked so lost, so _disappointed_ when Michael had revealed what she had done that she was forced to choke back a sob.

Her brother had tried to explain that Gabriel's actions had saved him, as well as their further implications, but the hurt never left Ichigo's eyes.

Ichigo had not said another word after that, even to the current moment. He had turned sullen, withdrawing into himself and focusing only on moving forward.

Even now, as she flew beside him, he only looked forward at the bright white walkway that appeared beneath his feet.

Gabriel could not help but steal glances at him as he moved. Her own grief was great, weighing heavily on her heart as she imagined what he must be thinking.

It struck her as odd that she was so worried about his reactions, yet the oddity did nothing to lessen her concerns. If nothing, it enflamed them. Ichigo Kurosaki had inexplicably become someone of meaning within her life. As violently as he had entered Heaven, so too had he forced his way into her mind.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she could only hope that he would see the truth behind her actions. There had been no conceit, no greed or malice within her deeds. She had only done what she thought could save him, to protect him and the legacy he had created within his short life.

 _Please understand, Ichigo._

Upon finally reaching the end of the pathway, the entire entourage floated gently down from the mouth of the garganta, landing softly on the cold, unfamiliar sands of what Isshin had labelled the 'Hollow World'.

"Gabriel."

The word was soft, a whisper barely noticeable even within the enveloping silence.

Turning quickly, she noticed Ichigo gazing intensely into her eyes. He said nothing else, only keeping his focus solely on her.

After several moments of tense stillness, she prompted, "Yes, Ichigo?"

"Why did you place your card in me, before the King card?"

The question was blunt, yet unassuming. His expression was blank, though his eyes were slightly guarded as they searched her face.

This was the moment she had hoped for, her chance to have him understand what it was she had actually done.

 _I hope._

"The simple answer is, I wanted to protect you. I had learned so much about you from Kisuke, heard so much about your life that I knew you would be devastated at what Samael had done with your body. I thought that if I could reincarnate you as an angel from my deck, you would be not only be able to overcome Samael, but you would be safe from the other Seraph's retribution. You would have been been granted sanctuary under my protection."

That was clearly not the answer that Ichigo had been expecting. His eyes widened and his breath caught as he gazed harder into her eyes.

Her revelation seemed overwhelming to him, her words almost daring him to hope, but he visibly swallowed and asked, "…and the King card?"

"I knew you were still in there. I knew that Samael hadn't fully taken over your soul, and it was the only thing left I could try to balance your powers. I hoped that a Seraph's card would give you the ability to overcome Samael's influence, as he was once an angel."

"You weren't trying to subjugate me? To make me your servant?"

Gabriel quickly forced down the uncharacteristic feelings of indignation at Ichigo's question. He was sincere, his eyes narrowed and searching hers for any sign of deceit, any reason not to hope.

Still, the thought provided no small measure of aggravation. She was one of the four great Seraphim of Heaven. Did he think her so devious as to try and claim his soul for her own use?

"No! I was only trying to protect you, Ichigo. I didn't want you as a servant, but I couldn't just leave you to fight Samael alone, not to mention what you would inevitably face should you succeed."

The silence that fell between them was uncomfortable, enough so that she subconsciously noticed the rest of the faction leaders and shinigami standing at a distance to one side.

"Thank you."

Her attention being brought back to the young man before her, she looked at him in surprise. This was not what she had thought would happen. Gabriel had expected anger, accusations of betrayal and maliciousness. She knew that Samael was still active within his mind, sharing—if not actively guiding— memories and thoughts, yet he thanked her?

Silently giving a brief prayer of thanks, she stepped forward, eagerly grabbing his bound hands.

"Ichigo, there is nothing to thank me for, I am simply relieved that you are safe."

She smiled as she felt a gentle squeeze on her hands. "That's not true. You saved me, and gave me the power to— _hrrk."_

Ichigo was cut off as his eyes tightened and his body went rigid. Seeing him clench his teeth, his face shifted to a look of rage and he quickly shoved her hands away before hunching over with a groan.

"Do it, and I'll kill us both," he snarled quietly, gripping his hands tightly against his thigh.

Gabriel's breath quickened as she deftly stepped away. Ichigo's growls and words meant that Samael was yet again unhappy. Simply by touching Ichigo, she had unknowingly provoked the Angel of Death, it would seem.

The tense moment was interrupted as a body and voice cut between them, "Alrighty then, now that you two have cleared the air, I'll just take a quick word with young Ichigo here before we get started, alright?"

 **XXXXXX**

 _Tap—Tap—Tap—Tap—Tap—Tap_

The quiet night that spread over the endless expanse that was Hueco Mundo was interrupted by the constant tapping of tiny feet running over the smooth sand.

A small trail of dust followed the small figure, who came to an abrupt stop atop a high dune.

 _Where is he?_

Nel Tu had been searching for Itsygo for days, determined to find her new best friend. It had gotten to the point that even Dondochakka and Pesche, her long-time brothers, had given up the chase.

It had made Nel sad, seeing her closest semblances of family stay behind at Las Noches, but she could understand. Once Nnoitra had attacked and unlocked her memories, she had understood that they had followed her for so long for her own protection.

In reality, it had been her that had made them stay. Eager as ever to keep her company, as well as safe, her beloved fraccion had been right behind her as she had made to find out what had happened to her new friend.

The memory still stung.

" _No Pesche, no Donda. Nel's going to go find Itsygo, and Nel's going to be with Itsygo forever and ever! Nel loves you guys, and Nel thanks you for everything you've done for her."_

 _Turning to hide the inevitable tears that were falling, she—in a moment of brief lucidity— called upon the hazy memories from her previous life and spoke once more._

" _Thank you, both of you. There have never been more loyal and brave companions, nor will there be. Don't be sad. I know what they say of hollows, but you can always rest assured that you are loved, that you are missed, and that no matter where I am, I will always hold the joy of being a part of Nel-Don-Pe inescapably within my…my heart. Goodbye."_

Nel had known shortly after meeting him that she wanted to be with Ichigo, to follow and protect him, to enjoy his friendship for as long as she could. He was not replacing her fraccion, not by any means, but he had opened her eyes to a connection that she had never experienced before. A true, deep friendship that had nothing to do with serving, or being a charge of.

The turning point had been when she had seen the terror in her fraccion's eyes at the thought of possibly leaving Hueco Mundo.

She couldn't do it. She couldn't make them leave their home, not when they had sacrificed so much for her. Her brave brothers, so loyal and true, they deserved to be happy and safe within their home. The war had decimated so many of the cruel Espada, there was little chance of them being mistreated. She had seen to that.

Though it hurt her so, she left them in the care of the newly arrived Tier Harribel. The woman had been clinging to life by a thread when she had stumbled out of a garganta, and her boys had been effective and efficient in seeing to her wellbeing.

Looking back over her shoulder at the mountainous fortress, Nel smiled. Yes, Pesche and Dondochokka would be well looked after.

However, her immediate situation was more worrisome.

It had been sudden, but she had felt a large wave of spiritual pressure earlier in the day. It was most likely more shinigami patrols, but there had been a whisper, a mere breath of essence that was familiar.

She would know that energy anywhere. Though her more childlike state was dominant, seeming to coincide with the energy she had to dedicate to focusing on her memories, and the energy was different than it had been the last time she felt it, there was no mistake.

Itsygo had come back to Hueco Mundo.

Grinning at the giddy flutter in her belly, she turned north, where the energy seemed to have originated.

Taking off again, Nel continued grinning as she knew that she had to be close. She would find her Itsygo, and she wouldn't let him go this time, not without her.

 **XXXXXX**

Ichigo struggled to catch his breath as the sounds of rattling chains within his mind accompanied his relaxing outwards.

That was too close.

Samael had obviously taken issue with Ichigo being too close to the 'treacherous Seraph', and had somehow gotten free of his bindings. He didn't know if his new Sacred Gear had escaped Hogyoku's grasp, or if the spirit had simply underestimated the angel.

 _It doesn't matter. Enough is enough, it's time to settle this,_ Ichigo thought bitterly.

Though…he had no real ideas on where to actually _start_.

Was he just supposed to defeat Samael like he had Zangetsu? Given the way they had come to be bound, it didn't seem too probable. Was Hogyoku just going to have to run interference for eternity?

"Well, that was interesting, huh?" Azazel said as he started to guide Ichigo away from where Gabriel stood.

Following simply for the distraction, Ichigo fought against the tension he felt from Samael.

"It was nothing," he denied, refusing to meet the Governor-General's eye.

"Now Ichigo, I have been called a lot of things in my time, but stupid was never one of them. You may not know this, but I have known Samael quite a lot longer than you have, and I know what it looks like when his temper reaches its end."

"That would explain why he wants me to be extra careful around you."

Azazel smirked as he relaxed. "Not a bad idea, to be honest. Like I said, though, I love peace. I'm more of an intellectual like your friend Urahara appears to be, more than I am a war lover."

"You're like Kisuke? That's not necessarily a comforting thought," Ichigo grumbled, rolling his eyes.

He sighed, enjoying the banality of such a gesture when all else was so tense. He had yet to have a chance to simply _be_ since this whole mess had started, and it was wearing on him.

The Fallen Angel chuckled. "Yeah, maybe not for a hothead like you. Look, I just wanted to give you a little piece of advice before we got going with this. Be prepared, though, Samael might not react the best to it."

Feeling Hogyoku pulse within his chest, Ichigo replied, "He's not going anywhere, for the moment."

"Hm," Azazel hummed, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"I want to ask so many questions right now, but we'll get to that later. Anyway, remember when I said that I work a lot with Sacred Gears?"

Seeing Ichigo nod in agreement, he continued.

"Thing is, Sacred Gears are all manifestations of some spirit, dragon, what-have-you. They're sentient, just like Samael is. What the dirty little secret is about them, what you've really got to understand, is that Sacred Gears don't just 'work'. There's not a command or a word and then 'poof!', you've got it under control."

Peering back over his shoulder, Azazel shifted his body so that he was facing away from all but Ichigo.

"Sacred Gears don't work without a cost. Lot's of folks will say something like 'It's because the wielder isn't strong enough', but that's mostly a load of crap. The beings inside of a Sacred Gear want something, some form of control over their own existence. Dragons usually want a physical body part, Longinus gears usually want a sacrifice of life force, so on and so forth. My point is, Samael is something unheard of in the world of Sacred Gears. When he was alive, he was able to battle toe to toe with the Heavenly Dragons—and came damn close to winning. Given what he can offer, what he can do, he may ask for something big…something you may not want to give. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Ichigo froze in apprehension.

The idea wasn't that foreign to him, given Zangetsu's 'Horse and King' speech, but it was daunting all the same. Zangetsu had wanted complete control, essentially to protect Ichigo it had turned out, but the fact remained.

What would Samael want?

More importantly, what would Ichigo _give_?

Looking over Azazel's shoulder, he glimpsed a worried expression upon Gabriel's face as she watched them speaking.

Flashes of their fight, of his brutalization pulled at his mind. He was going to give something to the creature that could do _that_?

No. It was unbelievable. Inconceivable.

And far too possible.

How many times had he nearly attacked either his father or Gabriel, not to mention Michael? Their proximity, their touches had been heavy forces against a hair-trigger of a temper.

 _My temper._

Ichigo couldn't deny the fact that Samael's addition to him was more than as just another potential weapon. The anger, the fury he felt were inexplicably _his._ His history was scattered, possessing years beyond his teenage life.

"Are you beginning to see why you're really here?" Azazel questioned quietly, seemingly reading his thoughts. Seeing a raised brow in response, he continued.

"To be perfectly frank, Ichigo, our main concern is your hold over Samael. You hold the ability to radically change the world we've worked hard to build and stabilize, and we've only seen that you cannot control your power. We need to know if you're a threat to that stability."

"So don't give him anything that threatens your peace, is that what you're telling me?"

Giving a humorless smirk, Azazel nodded.

"I just wanted to warn you. You seem like a good enough kid, but you've only gotten a taste of the shit hand you've been dealt. Just don't underestimate what you're going up against. God may have given you power over him, but that doesn't mean you're safe. Got it?"

Turning his attention back to the sandy expanse before him, Ichigo nodded before closing his eyes and reaching once more within.

 **XXXXXX**

A wooden creak echoed throughout a spacious throne room as Yasaka, ruling monarch of Japan's Yokai faction, fell into her royal seat with a loud huff. Trying all that she could to stop the headache that was threatening to overwhelm her, her pointed ears flattened atop her head as she pinched the bridge of her nose.

 _How can such a long reign of peace be so deeply upset in such a brief moment?_

Rolling her eyes, she knew the truth. With Shinigami, there was always something to look forward to. Stuck in their Edo ways, Amaterasu's guardian contingent for the afterlife were always causing trouble in the living world.

It amazed her that so few outside of the Shinto pantheon knew of them. When one knew what to look for, it became glaringly obvious that the Shinigami were atrociously sloppy with their work.

Yasaka sighed as she summoned a glass of wine, knowing that her bias never served her well within these moments.

It was true that the Shinigami experienced more than their fair share of confrontations, albeit many were of their own making, yet she could not deny the…efficiency…that was often exhibited when dealing with those confrontations.

She frowned as she remembered the war that occurred nearly at her literal front door. While monstrously powerful, herself, the Yokai monarch could not deny that she had no desire to face the few Shinigami she had met in battle.

Though arrogant and often the cause of their own problems, she had to admit that she was glad to be on the same side.

 _On the other hand…_

Cleaning up their messes was both a full-time job, and a certified pain in her royal posterior. Never was that truer than now.

Mere moments before, her court had entertained both the Captain Commander of the Shinigami, Genryusai Yamamoto—a grizzled titan of the supernatural world, and Goddess Amaterasu herself.

Glaring darkly at scorch marks left from her Lady's wrath, Yasaka still had trouble believing the nightmare of a tale that had been relayed to her.

A million humans, their souls nearly consumed.

A traitorous Shinigami stronger than nearly the entire contingent, partially creates an orb beyond all but her Mother's comprehension and nearly transcends into godhood.

Part of her land _removed_ by the Shinigami to limit the destruction.

And the most incredible part of the entire tale—Ichigo Kurosaki.

Long had her Lady watched over the boy, an amalgam of supernatural mythology. Long had the forces of Kyoto watched over him, learning of the enigmatic child who had been dragged into worlds he should never have had to know.

Yasaka was familiar with the name, even more so with the family. It had been nearly twenty years since a Shinigami captain by the name of Isshin Shiba had so violently entered her realm, and she had kept a close watch on the—now Kurosaki—family.

Yet now the child who had held such promise had become a curse upon the world, the bearer of not only the hatred of the biblical god, but of the Hogyoku.

Draining her glass, Yasaka groaned. Her life was going to change. Her home, her people, her _child_ now faced dangers the likes of which she couldn't imagine. All because of her Lady's final words.

" _He is not aware of it yet, but he will come to Kyoto. My Son will not be left in the cold, cruel hands of those that would use him, rather he will find solace in the love of his Family. You will protect him until he can protect himself."_

How could this be possible? After hearing what he had done to Heaven, what would stop him from leveling Kyoto, or Japan itself!

Still in disbelief at what was being required of her, Yasaka held her face in her hands as she tried to think of what to do. Her orders were inescapable, their meaning perfectly clear. She could not—nor would she truly consider—disobeying her Lady, but this was beyond what she could reasonably deal with at the moment.

She needed to talk, to actually say the words aloud, and to sort out her thoughts in a way that few would understand. Yasaka needed support, someone who could listen and _know_ what she was talking about.

Knowing only one place to turn to at a moment such as this, she sat up in her throne once more. Reaching within her robes, she withdrew a small, silver device and flipped it open, pressing a key.

" _Hello?"_

"Yoruichi, it's me…"

 **XXXXXX**

Opening his eyes, Ichigo found himself once more within the ashen realm of his inner world. Turning quickly, he found himself near a bound Samael.

The sight was conflicting. Ichigo could feel the fear, the unquestionable hatred of being bound pouring from Samael's prostrate form. Glowing purple chains tethered his outstretched arms and legs tightly, providing him no room to move at all.

Ichigo scowled at the sight. He didn't want Samael to miss his face during this. The Sacred Gear spirit needed to know just how serious he truly was, he had to _know_ that Ichigo Kurosaki would never again allow him to use his body to hurt the innocent.

 _Get up, get up and face me!_

Without no other sound than the clinking of chains, Samael's body was immediately drawn to a kneeling position. His arms still bound to the ground, he was at least able to raise his head to meet Ichigo's gaze.

While stunned at the response to his thoughts, Ichigo had been expecting hatred from Samael, expecting anger, and he was not disappointed.

" **Beware, Ichigo. His hatred runs deeper than you know,"** Hogyoku warned, appearing next to him.

Raising a questioning brow, Ichigo was stunned as the spirit pointed out the ground on which they stood. Looking down, he saw pale grey veins spreading outward, glimpses peeking out from beneath the blankets of ash.

"Is that…"

" **Yes. His influence has spread. I have done what I can to mitigate it's effect, but as you have seen, it has already begun to have an impact on your mind."**

Ichigo glanced up at Hogyoku's words, showing no further reaction than to frown.

He had known this already. With his flares of feelings towards his father and Michael, as well as his reaction to Gabriel's proximity, it had been no surprise that Samael was affecting his mind, his personality. Terrifying, but not surprising. However…

"What about your influence?"

Feeling slightly on edge, Ichigo eyed the humanoid spirit cautiously. With all of the noise and distraction that Samael's presence caused, Hogyoku was quietly forgotten for what it…he…was.

Hogyoku had been the catalyst for an entire war. His friends had been irreversibly changed and hurt because of the orb. His comrades and home had been attacked by enhanced hollows, not to mention the evolutions that Aizen had undergone, himself.

Was Hogyoku going to want something, as well?

" **Ichigo Kurosaki,"** Hogyoku began, stepping soundlessly closer to face Ichigo. **"I chose you. When I had broken free from Sosuke Aizen's control and Kisuke Urahara's slumber, I felt the hearts around me and saw into each and every soul. Yet, I chose to bind myself to you. I chose you as a bearer, a partner, not a potential source of gain."**

The piercing gaze held no lie.

 _Well, nothing I can see, at least._

In reality, Hogyoku had done everything possible to keep him alive, to protect until this point. Believing his words proved easier than he had thought possible, yet it was comforting to hear them all the same.

"Okay, I believe you. Still, this is going to be between Samael and myself. Don't interfere."

" _ **Tch,"**_ Samael snorted, his breath labored. Looking to him, Ichigo saw black, loathing eyes penetrating beyond his face, into his core.

" _ **Partners, bearers, it is all pointless."**_

"Shut up," Ichigo snapped. His patience with this newly gained spirit having long since evaporated.

"I'm sick of your ranting about everything being pointless! I'm sick of you trying to use my body to hurt Gabriel! I am sick of all your psychotic hatred that you are trying to make me feel! And now, even with all the stunts you've pulled, I have to try and draw out your power and control it just so we don't have the leaders from every known faction trying to kill us!"

Breathing heavily, Ichigo stared at the silent creature. The hateful aura that was his very presence was strong, pressing upon the area.

It was infuriating. Yet again, his life had been essentially hijacked by a godlike figure trying to use him as a tool. In this case, an actual god had bound him to a hateful monster torn between nihilism and homicidal rage.

And now Ichigo was supposed to entertain the notion of granting a request of this monster, just to gain control over his powers and keep himself alive?

His thoughts were interrupted by sharp, guttural laughter. Focusing once more on the bound creature before him, he noticed a crazed look upon Samael's face.

His eyes were bright, and his smile was dangerous, the creature's countenance eager as if ready to devour all within his sight.

" _ **Sick of my psychotic hatred? Making you feel? You are so blind to the very answers before you. Your naiveté is so sad that it amuses me, noble boy."**_

"What's so naive about being sick of your hate? It does nothing, gives you no—"

" _ **I**_ **am** _ **hatred, you ignorant child!"**_ Samael bellowed, his eyes bulging as his body attempted to lunge forward.

" _ **You fool, of course you feel my loathing, my abhorrence! You have the evil nature, the hatred of a god flowing through your veins, your very life-force! Whether you like it or not, that hatred is a part of you…a part that will not be diminished or cast aside."**_

Ichigo ground his teeth together. As much as he despised the idea, he knew it to be true. He could feel Samael's influence staining his soul, could sense it as a part of him.

It pissed him off to no end.

"You know, for someone who thinks that everything is pointless, you sure do talk a lot."

Samael looked to be caught short by the sarcasm, his eyes wide and his mouth parted slightly. Slowly, a sinister grin began to spread, his teeth showing from the menacing look. Low, mocking chuckles were the only sounds heard.

" _ **You truly have no idea of what your existence has become, do you? You put such great stock in your righteousness, in your dedication to protecting what is right. What will become of your mind when you strike down those who have not immediately wronged you? What will your fragile heart do when the blood on your hands is not from shared memory? Ichigo Kurosaki, you have much to learn of your new life."**_

" _Shut up!"_ Ichigo cried, lurching forward and roughly grasping the chains wrapped tightly around Samael's neck.

"I don't give a damn about this new existence you keep ranting about. While we're on the subject, let's get something straight: We protect. We protect _what_ I say we protect. We protect _when_ I say we protect. We aren't going to hurt the innocent, and we're going to leave this world better than how I found it. Got it?"

Eying the resolve in the boy's eyes, Samael stifled an exasperated sigh. A mere child, this boy had no idea of the ways of the world. He knew not what the ones he defended would turn him into. He was so similar to Samael, just another tool to be used.

Yet, there was something that stood out from his speech. Ichigo had repeatedly used the term 'we' _._

 _We_

 _So the boy thinks that there is a we?_

Did he truly think that he could simply command the Angel of Death, the very Venom of God? Did the child believe that he could divine a purpose for existing solely by the desire to protect individuals?

What foolishness! What naïveté! Feeling the stolen shards he had hidden warm, he knew that—like in the garden of Eden—his moment had nearly arrived.

" _ **There is nothing to protect! The ones you guard are nothing more than puppeteers, dangling you through their ways of deceit and struggle for power. You would fight to keep the world from balance, to allow the blind to continue leading the blind. I refuse to exist solely for the whims of a hapless child."**_

Struggling against his chains, Samael tried to break free, giving the boy a show of anger and force.

" _ **I can see your mind. Even now, you look at me with such conviction. Yet, you cannot comprehend the forces within your own soul, much less those that you will come against. I'll never bow to the likes of you, one who cannot understand the balance of the world, much less protect it. Chain me if you so choose, but you**_ **will** _ **become the hatred and evil of God, it has already begun."**_

Ichigo gripped the chains tighter, bringing their faces so close that he felt the heat from Samael's breath on his skin. Feeling the truth of the creature's words, he snarled in response.

"Then I'll use my hatred to protect those that I love! I've torn apart Hell to keep them safe, I'll do worse to you! You want a purpose? You're a Sacred Gear. _My_ Sacred Gear. Give me your power, I'll use it to keep the innocent safe."

Samael replied with a sharp headbutt.

" _ **If I am to have a purpose, then my purpose is balance! It is to rip those that call themselves 'Almighty' from their lofty perches. You claim to desire to protect the innocent, yet you give no thought to what endangers them! Gods, dragons, all beings who hold themselves above, who cause chaos and destruction by their very natures! You want my powers, Ichigo Kurosaki? Then become hatred. Discover what it is to be the Angel of Death and tear the gods from their thrones!"**_

With a loud _SNAP_ , the chains in Ichigo's hands broke into shimmering flakes of energy that dissipated as they fluttered to the ground. Before Samael understood what was happening, a crushing blow to his head leveled the former angel.

" _I said we will protect what I want to protect!"_

 _CRUNCH_

Another brutal strike to Samael's face, and Ichigo bellowed once more.

" _I don't care what it is that you think you've done to me. We. Will. Protect!"_

Large, purple beams of light coalesced into a glowing sword within his hand. With one strike, Ichigo cut the chains holding Samael. Spinning, he lashed out with a foot and sent the creature tumbling away. When Samael finally landed, he was clutching at his chest.

Rising to his feet, Samael turned just in time to catch Ichigo's newly formed blade of light in his hand. Though it seared his flesh, he gripped it tightly, watching as streaks of black began to spark along the length of the weapon to the surprise of it's wielder.

Before the boy could think on it further, Samael formed a blade of his own, striking out at Ichigo's attacking form.

 _CRASH_

Their blades connected, causing a massive eruption of energy. Stepping back, Samael noticed Ichigo's blade glowing a far darker violet than when it had started.

 _It is time._

Seeing that Ichigo was too far gone in his rage to notice the changes, Samael secured the remaining fragment at his chest. Azazel had been mistaken. Samael was not going to ask for anything from Ichigo Kurosaki.

He was going to _take_ it.

With a loud roar, he held his sword of light aloft and charged at the boy chosen to bear him.

His attack was met with an equally loud bellow, as Ichigo bore down upon him.

 _SHICK_

With a sickening slide, the violet blade found its home within Samael's chest.

The blade was excruciatingly hot, a raging flame within his body that threatened to consume him. Yet, Samael watched Ichigo's eyes closely, seeing them darken in satisfaction. The boy was likely proud, exhilarated by defeating his 'enemy'.

A loud thud rang out, accompanied by a large pulse of energy.

 _Wait..._

Immediately, both combatants felt apprehensive. Boiling pools of dark energy began swirling around them, binding them mere inches from each other.

Samael knew instantly that something had gone wrong. He knew that his work with the shards had been successful, but something else had happened…something more.

Dark grey and purple strands arose from the pools, striking out like whips at their wrists and necks, causing them to cry out in agony before darkness took them.

 **XXXXXX**

Sirzechs Lucifer stood silently, his mouth ajar.

Focusing his gaze, he saw Ichigo Kurosaki kneeling, gasping for air as trails of smoke rose from his smoldering body.

 _What in the name of…me…did I just see?_

He was a man who had fought in countless battles, had faced every opponent known. Devils, dragons, gods, yokai, angels and more had bowed or fallen to his powers, Super Devil that he was.

Sirzechs had been in the presence of almighty forces such as Ophis and the biblical God, Shiva and Hades. He had met many founders of pantheons, experiencing the awe of their splendor and might.

Yet it had only been in height of the last war, when the Heavenly Pair had fallen, that he had felt power the likes of what had just pressed upon the area.

The air still carried the same malicious taint, the same potent essence that all the beings gathered had known mere moments before.

He watched as the boy stood, turning to face them.

 _This power, this presence…it cannot be possible…_

Meeting the astounded gazes of those around him, Sirzechs knew it to be not only possible, but probable.

 _Damn it._

Though clearly not complete, at least for the moment, it was entirely possible that they had just witnessed the birth of a god.

 **XXXXXX**

Ichigo groaned as he stood, basking in the delicious strain of his muscles. Craning his neck to the heavens, he inhaled deeply as he stared at the hollow moon.

Whatever had happened, whatever had taken place had changed him dramatically. His body still felt the faint humming of energy that had coursed through his being just moments ago.

Clenching his fists, he knew that he simply radiated power, the intoxicating sensation creating a high. Even the coarse, cold sands and brisk winds could not break through the wondrous haze of—

 _ClinkClink_

The startling noise halted his euphoric feeling. Nothing that _clinked_ fit in with what he felt. _Clinks_ meant chains, and there were no chains to be found. Ichigo had put Samael in his place, he had conquered him just as he had Zangetsu. Ichigo shook his head as—

 _ClinkClinkClink_

Slowly, but with the inevitable force of gravity, reality began to seep back into Ichigo's consciousness. Cold, hard metal could be felt on his neck, trailing to his chest and his hands felt heavy.

No.

 _Clinks_ meant chains…

Chains meant…

Looking down, a raging fury swept through him. Dangling around his neck was an aged looking chain with small links that were the same sickly grey as the wings that reached from his back.

His wrists were cuffed, with links of the same color dangling from them.

The chains were a taunt. He knew it, he could _feel_ it.

The biblical god, Samael, they mocked him. He could feel that he had gained Samael's powers, could sense the burning potential within. Yet, it was what else he felt that infuriated him.

Something ageless stirred within him. An ancient feeling coiled not simply _around_ his mind, rather its haunting presence was woven together far more intimately than ever before.

Ichigo could do nothing but recognize this presence as a part of him, a force intertwined with his own spiritual makeup.

 _What did you do?!_

" _ **What I could to ensure I would exist as more than a slave."**_

Anger, deep seeded rage boiled within his chest. Things had changed, _he_ had changed.

Ichigo knew that he was far older than the few years he had already lived, but the depths of his memories and mind were disconcerting. Gritting his teeth, he willed his mind to focus on anything other than the storm of thoughts and voices yet to be sorted.

He was through being reactive to all of this. Samael could do what he wanted, but in the end it would all be the same. He would protect. Period. It didn't matter what was said, what was thought, or what was believed, that most salient aspect of his life would never change.

"Ichigo," a voice interrupted.

" _What_?!" he snapped, turning quickly to face Michael who was looking at him worriedly.

"Easy there, son. You ok?" Isshin asked gruffly, his face drawn.

"Okay? Okay?! What makes you think that I could possibly be ok?!"

Gripping the chain at his neck, Ichigo roughly held it out to them. "Look at this! Do you—what?"

Ichigo paused at the distressed looks from all present. Hands went to the hilts of weapons, and spiritual energies rocketed.

"Ichigo, it would be best if you didn't do that right now," Kisuke said, the edge in his voice catching Ichigo's attention.

"What's wrong with showing you this ridiculous taunt of a sign? Samael and God made their point, and I've got a feeling that this isn't something that comes off too easily," Ichigo replied, pulling on the chain.

"Ichigo, please!" Gabriel begged, grabbing his hands tightly within her own.

Yet again, the voices in his mind subsided at her touch. The whispers disappeared into nothingness. Meeting her frightened gaze, he could only give a questioning one in return.

"Ichigo, maybe you don't remember, but when you removed the chain just a few moments ago, it was catastrophic. Your power was beyond—"

" _IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIItsygo!"_ a loud cry came, growing louder by the second. Unexpectedly to all, a small green blur rocketed by the gathered leaders and into the unprotected stomach of Ichigo.

 **XXXXXX**

The night was brisk, the bay air coolly kissing the exposed skin of his chest as he listened to water gently lapping at the beams of the pier on which he stood.

Staring out at the endless black waters, Vali Lucifer watched for any signs of movement, and indication of his… _boss_.

He frowned. It never failed to leave a foul taste in his mouth. Boss. _Boss._ Such a common word, a term used to indicate subservience and obedience.

 _How ridiculous. The White Dragon Emperor an underling of a Fallen Angel?_

Though he scoffed to himself, Vali knew that Azazel was not without merit. The man was brilliant, his mind beyond anything he had ever encountered. Azazel made connections from seemingly nothing, educated leaps without seeming to have even thought.

The Governor-General of the Fallen Angels was a solid leader, as well. Sure, there were some within their ranks that rocked the boat, but what regime was without dissidents? Azazel was a brilliant warrior too, Vali assumed.

And therein lay his problem.

He could only guess. Vali could only wonder at the strength held by his _boss,_ as the man quickly proved to be one of the most boring men alive.

Gently rubbing his temple, the youngest living descendant of the original Lucifer tried to control his temper. Azazel was stifling, preferring countless hours spent in a laboratory poring over Sacred Gears and their research.

Who the hell cared?! What possible good was a Sacred Gear within a lab? Take it out, _use it!_ There was nothing without blood, no joy aside from battle, yet his _boss_ couldn't pull his head out of his ass long enough to realize it.

The man didn't want war, fine. Vali could understand that, even appreciate the freedoms that inter-faction peace brought with it. But real battle—a fight against someone who could, and would, kill you—that was the true lifeblood of the warrior.

Of a dragon.

Yet here he was, the most powerful Hakuryuukou in all of time, living a mundane existence as a simple errand boy for a brilliant Fallen Angel.

How his predecessors must weep at his current state.

Shaking his head, Vali put his digression aside for the moment. He focused on the here, the now. There were things currently in motion within the world, pieces in play that were finally beginning to look interesting.

He had learned of his rival's appearance. The Sekiryuutei had revealed himself in Japan as a meager, unimportant nobody of a human. Yet, there was something about the boy, something in his eyes that told Vali that the historic battles of Albion and Ddraig were not over.

He would be worth looking into, sometime in the future.

However, the past few weeks had been most interesting. Having felt the massive surge of energy only a few weeks ago, Vali knew that something within the world had awakened. Something strong.

Azazel had tracked the source of the disturbance to Japan, yet that is where they seemed to have hit a dead end. There was nothing and no one who could give them true insight into what had happened.

Then Azazel had disappeared. Not literally, of course, but he had told Vali rather abruptly _"I've got something I've got to go do, so be a good dragon and keep yourself entertained, ok?"_

 _Smartass bastard._

Still, Vali's interest had been peaked. Azazel, though seemingly a man with no real direction, was actually very intentional about what he did. He didn't take a piss without some sort of plan, and he certainly didn't forget things he had to do.

So what could have been important enough to abandon the search for the source of a massive burst of energy?

 _He must have found it._

Vali was no fool. Azazel would be very well aware of his battle lust, and had surely taken steps to keep him from getting into situations where he could cause trouble for the factions.

He also knew of the 'secret' meetings of the faction leaders. He remembered passing Azazel one evening and catching a whiff of demonic power, with the enigmatic man simply shrugging and saying he had been to a strip club.

 _Moron_.

His skin tingled as another breeze danced across his chest and anticipation tightened his muscles. Azazel had to have found something _very_ interesting for him to simply up and leave as he had, likely for one of their faction leader sessions.

If the clues that the local Yokai he had luckily found and interrogated were any indication, it likely had something to do with Shinigami. Time and again, the creatures had muttered about Shinigami wars, yet none had an actual answer for what had happened.

Yet, throughout each of his conversations, there were two names that had popped up fairly consistently.

Sosuke Aizen, and some kid named Kurosaki.

While Vali knew virtually nothing about Shinigami from experience, the whispers and legends that he had heard were exciting, to say the least.

Monstrously powerful beings who fought with swords that possessed secret abilities and protected Shinto afterlife. Most definitely worth taking a look into.

Vali had no doubts that whatever Azazel had been called to had something to do with the two names he had repeatedly heard.

The problem was finding them. Shinigami wouldn't exactly be in the phonebook, nor would they likely have a normal residence.

Undeterred, Vali waited. He knew that Azazel would be back. There was no way that the Governor-General of the Grigori would leave the Hakuryuukou alone for too long.

 _He thinks_ _I might just be a bad dragon and start a new war._

Jackass. Azazel should know by now that Vali didn't want a full scale war, just somebody strong to fight. Someone who could give him that thrill, the sensation of glimpsing death was all he asked for.

He had scoured the planet for just such an opponent, endlessly traipsing the globe for just one who could challenge him. That search had proved fruitless…thus far.

But if Azazel's search went well, if his suspicions were accurate, he had a strong feeling that his search would be finished, too.

 **XXXXXX**

Ichigo stood in confused wonder at the small arrancar in his arms. Those gathered around him were in equal states of shock, but their murmurs and stares faded to nothingness.

Hugging her tightly once more, Ichigo breathed deeply. He had been so angry, so…enraged…just before she had arrived. The looks, the subtle shifts from everyone around him that told him he was a threat—it was maddening.

Yet, something about Nel's arrival, the arrival of such an innocent and familiar presence from the last time that he truly remembered being 'Ichigo', in the midst of so much turmoil and change brought a sense of relief.

"…and Nel wants to stay with Itsygo forever and ever! Nel searched for Itsygo ever since Nel felt him come back. Nel is so happy to see Itsygo!"

"Nel…" he began, unsure of how to tell her that her staying with him was not possible. There was no way that she would understand the depth of what had changed within him, of what he had become when he barely had a clue, himself.

It was going to hurt, sending Nel away.

Looking down to her shining eyes, her toothy smile, her never-ending energy, Ichigo cursed Samael and the biblical god. Why did they have to tear all that he wanted, that he _needed_ out of his life?

There was no way he could stay with his family again, no way that he could keep Nel with him. The simmering hatred, the unquenchable wrath he felt in his heart was a danger to all around him.

Giving a brief glance to Gabriel, the only one who had quieted the voices before, he cursed yet again. It was agony, knowing that he would have to remove all that was good from his life, yet he could sense the same emotions he had noticed when he met Samael for the first time were now emanating from him.

How long before someone else was subjected to the curse that now defined him?

"Itsygo has wings?!" Nel squeaked, breaking through his inner turmoil as she pointed excitedly over his shoulder. Before he could respond, she crawled over his shoulder and grabbed the feathers of the closest wing.

"Nel?"

"They're so pwetty!" she gushed. "Is Itsygo a bird?!"

"…"

He had no words. The hope he saw as he looked at Nel's smiling face made him sigh. Giving her the smallest of smiles, he froze when she grabbed his face.

"Itsygo feels different. Is it because he's a bird? It's ok though, Itsygo is Itsygo!"

"I don't think I could have said it better, myself," Kisuke interrupted, smiling as he watched Nel playing with the hem of Ichigo's borrowed robes.

As all attention turned to him, the shopkeeper opened his fan. "She's right, you know. Ichigo does feel different, but he still seems like Ichigo. Irritable, horrible with authority, and absolutely powerless before a beautiful woman. Sounds like our Ichigo, alright."

"Hey!" Ichigo snapped, indignant. Yet, the fight left him. He was tired, empty of all that gave him light. He was done, he was leaving, and while he had no idea where he was actually going, he would _love_ to see them try and stop him.

"I…ah screw it. Look, have you guys seen enough? I've been running for too long, I haven't seen my family in days, and I have to let my friends know I'm alive. I just need to know what you're going to try and do if I leave."

"Hmmm," Kisuke hummed, closing his fan and tapping it to his chin.

"Well, I don't know what your options are for the future…" he began, his brow raising as he looked to Ichigo's chest.

"That's ok, I do," a seductive alto voice crooned from behind the jovial shopkeeper.

Murmurs of surprise floated over the area as those gathered expressed their shock at a stunning, dark-skinned, violet-haired woman that seemed to simply appear behind Kisuke Urahara.

"Who are—" Sirzechs began, only to be cut off by a brief wheeze from the former Shinigami captain.

What color was in Kisuke's face quickly drained, leaving him ashen and shaking. Turning slowly, he stuttered, "H-Hey Yoruichi! I was…I was just about to come find you and let you know, um, well…everything that's been going on…"

A mocha finger trailed slowly from his cheek, trailing down his chest.

"Oh? Well then, I suppose everything is fine. I guess I don't have to worry about learning the fact that my favorite student was chased into the Underworld."

The finger trailed further down.

"I suppose that I don't have to worry about finding out that one of my dearest friends and the young man who saved so many souls was bound to the curse and evil of a _god_! I suppose that I am just fine with the fact that you and your rat bastard friend Isshin left me out of the loop on _one of the biggest things to ever happen in his life!"_

Yoruichi's bellows concluded with a loud squeak, as her knee had quickly met her descending fingertip at the apex of Kisuke's thighs.

Rolling her shoulders with a satisfied sigh, she left the blonde man writhing on the sands to the bemusement of the gathered faction leaders behind her. With a smug smirk, she sauntered to where Ichigo was standing.

"Hey there, Berry Boy, how are you holding up?" she asked, her voice light, but her eyes searching.

"Ichigo, who is this?" Gabriel asked, her voice tense.

Turning to look at the worried Seraph, he held a palm out to her. "It's ok. Yoruichi Shihoin was my teacher, as well as a Shinigami captain. She's a friend."

Bringing his attention back to his mentor, he grumbled, "Hey Yoruichi, nice entrance. I'm just fine, don't worry about me."

"Uh huh…" she murmured, her expression flat.

Seeing that she didn't believe him, Ichigo sighed. Yoruichi always knew when he was lying, especially when he was trying to keep news about himself _to_ himself.

"What do you want me to say? It's Hell. Actually, that's not too far from the truth. I'm assuming you know everything now?"

Yoruichi nodded. "You could say that. Let's just say I've gotten quite an earful about you."

Seeing only a raised brow and guarded expression, she continued.

"The biblical factions aren't the only one's who've noticed you. I've gotten word that your name has been coming up in some other circles…ones closer to home."

"As much as I'd like to play a guessing game, I can't say that I'm in the mood. What's going on? Are they going to try and chain me, too?"

"No, not this time," she replied, giving a sharp look to the gathered leaders at the mention of chains, though noticing Ichigo's clenched fists.

"I've been sent to come get you and bring you to Kyoto for a little meet-and-greet."

"Sent?" Ichigo asked, surprised at the notion, though his tone gave evidence to his indignation at yet another divine summons. Just how long did these 'deities' think that he would be agreeable to their whims?

Who was wanting to see him now? Someone who could _send_ Yoruichi Shihoin?

"Well, _asked_ would be more appropriate, I suppose," she said lightly, tossing her hair, though cutting a meaningful glance at him that clearly implored trust.

"So someone else is making demands of me, too?" he asked, his edged voice asking the question Yoruichi clearly wanted silent.

"What else would you expect when you've caught the attention of the supernatural world, dead gods, and even our Mother, herself? It just so happens that I am the perfect liaison for this bit, so things worked out well."

Stepping closer to him, she traced the chains encircling his neck, her expression worried.

"As well as they could, I guess," she whispered, an unfamiliar sadness in her eyes.

In a voice low enough that only he could hear, she continued, "Oh Berry Boy, what did he do to you?"

"Don't worry about me, I'm—"

"If you say you're fine again, you're joining Kisuke on the ground. You may be holding it together, but don't try to tell me that you're fine, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Locking eyes once more, Yoruichi's expression gave him all the answers he'd need.

With a forced chuckle, he sighed. If there was someone he could trust at the moment, it was her. If nothing else, it gave him a direction to go for the moment.

"Okay, Yoruichi. You win."

"Not trying to break up the reunion," Azazel interjected, clearing his throat. "But could someone tell us just what's going on?"

"I agree," Michael added. "I mean you no disrespect, Yoruichi Shihoin, but what do you mean 'bring him to Kyoto for a meet and greet'?"

Raising a brow as she turned, Yoruichi muttered, "You must be Michael, and you Azazel, am I right?"

"Heh, not every day a bombshell of a woman shows up knowing your name," Azazel smirked, his arms crossed but his posture relaxed.

"When you say your _Mother,_ " Michael started, leaving the sentence hanging.

He silently hoped that what he was about to hear from the newly arrived woman's lips would be anything besides what he knew was coming. This was already a nightmare, even before the political uproar that these events would cause, and to add more was unthinkable.

In all honesty, there was very little that could be done about Ichigo Kurosaki at the present time. Even though he had just released a god-like form and power, the young man was tied so inexorably to so many beings and dimensions that permanently subduing him would be treated as a false imprisonment or worse.

Sure, he could take steps to make sure that Ichigo was watched properly and that his ties to Heaven remained strong, but nothing could be actually done without the risk of open war. Michael needed Ichigo to choose to align himself with Heaven, to decide that his presence—in a sense— and loyalty lay with the faction that now defined his very appearance.

However, as the violet-haired woman prepared to respond, he had a sneaking suspicion that unpleasant news was on the way.

"Oh yes," Yoruichi smirked. " _Mother_ is quite angry, at the moment. Apparently, having her precious Son stolen from her in such a manner has pissed her off more thoroughly than even Lord Susanoo is capable of."

Shifting her weight onto one hip, Yoruichi finished, "Lady Amaterasu has demanded, in no uncertain terms, Ichigo's presence in Kyoto as soon as possible."

Michael really hated being right, sometimes.

This was something he had expected, and fervently hoped against. Getting entangled with another pantheon was never a wise decision, much less under the circumstances that they were facing. Yet here he was, forced into a deadly game of tug-of-war with the Shinto Sun Goddess.

Their position was precarious, at best. One wrong move and the supernatural world would be embroiled in a cataclysmic war, far from his dreams of universal peace. Perhaps letting him meet with Amaterasu could calm the Shinto faction.

Glancing to his left, he noticed his sister subtly twisting her pale-white hands nervously, biting her lip in worry as she watched Ichigo's reaction.

It had surprised him to learn of the impact that Ichigo Kurosaki had made on Gabriel, and she on him. The sweet and carefree Seraph rarely took to anyone with the intensity that she had to the boy, and _that_ was a troubling prospect, but her sway over his troubled mind seemed even greater.

Yet, who else could he trust in this moment? Who else would be able to represent Heaven in such a tumultuous time?

Michael knew, however, that there was only one true question that allowed him to even consider what he would propose.

 _Who else can calm the voice within his soul?_

Meeting her glance, he voiced, "Then Gabriel will accompany him."

Yoruichi gave a sidelong gaze to the woman in question, not missing the curious look the winged beauty was leveling at her former protege. The concern and undercurrents of far more troubling emotions were all to clear in her expressive eyes, further evidenced by her fidgety body language. Everything about the golden-haired Seraph screamed her desire to reach out and tend to the troubled young man beside her.

For reasons unknown, that didn't quite sit well with Yoruichi. But a desire to attend to more pressing issues held such unease at bay… For now.

In no position to offer an objection, Yoruichi simply gave a curt nod to Michael and flared her spiritual energy. Moments passed before a rift began to open behind her, brilliant reddish light spilling from its depts.

"Very well then. Let's take our leave."

"Nel's coming too!"

Raising a brow, Yoruichi looked on in veiled amusement at the stunned face of Ichigo. The arrancar in his arms seemed determined to be where he was, yet reluctance was clear in his eyes.

"Nel," he began quietly. "You can't come with me. I'm not safe to be around, not after what's—"

 _SlapSlapSlapSlap!_

Though the moment was anything but humorous, the look on Ichigo's face at having been repeatedly smacked by a child arrancar was one of the more comical things Yoruichi could remember seeing.

"Nel is coming too! Itsygo left Nel once, he's not leaving Nel again!"

After a momentary stare-down, Ichigo hung his head. "Nel…it's not safe…I'm mmph!"

Holding her small hands over his mouth, Nel cried, "Itsygo is Nel's friend. Itsygo would never hurt Nel, and Nel will protect Itsygo!"

Turning to see the raised brow of his mentor, the small, encouraging smile of his newest angelic acquaintance, and the variety of stares from the faction leaders, Ichigo sighed, "Damn it all. Okay Nel, come on."

The party of four made their way towards the gate, with Yoruichi entering first and an oddly compliant Ichigo following closely behind her. However, Gabriel paused before she entered the glowing tear and turned to meet the weight of her brother's apprehensive eyes. Though she didn't doubt his faith in her, Gabriel understood that far more than the planet was delicately swaying between their hard-earned relative peace and world-ending catastrophe.

Who wouldn't have their nerves tested under those circumstances?

She offered her brother the only reassurance she could, in the form of a smile, before returning her focus to the gateway before her. A steadying breath was the only luxury she availed herself before stepping into the light.

Shortly after, the gateway collapsed upon securing its travelers and left no evidence it had been there moments before.

Michael could only close his eyes and loose a weary sigh, an array of calculations bearing themselves on his overtaxed mind. Though everything was now in his capable sister's hands, preparations had to be made incase the imminent meeting turned out in a… Less than favorable manner.

His present company, he would bet, was thinking along those same lines.

With Ichigo Kurosaki potentially laid the fate of the world, and Michael knew he had to find a way to attain the trust of the volatile overpowered young man. On top of that, he needed a way to deal with the inevitable challenges from problematic entities and factions around the world once the word got out.

Knowing the world as he did, word _would_ get out. It was only a matter of when.

Dismayed by the overwhelming potential for future conflict, Michael could only pray.

"May God have mercy on us all."

 **A/N:**

 **Another chapter down, and getting some plot traction/direction. The combination of Ichigo and Samael is proving to be incredibly interesting to me, so I am going to be taking opportunities to explore their mindset-both separate and together- as well as how they react to the inhuman world. It won't always be the fastest process, but the story will move!**

 **I waited to post this until I had some progress into my other stories, as I really wanted to concentrate on writing. While the majority of you are awesome and even engage in some great dialogue (Thanks Liam, Roses and a few others), some of you have have been quite unpleasant, your atrocious manners turning pretty personal.**

 **Disagreeing, even hating my work is one thing, but I just feel downright _awful_ for being as stupid and useless as a few of you have enjoyed pointing out in PM's and a lot of anonymous reviews that I deleted, and for wasting your time chapter after chapter.**

 **Really, just how could I have been so darn inconsiderate?**

 **Anyway, on to more pleasant things. Thank you to all who choose to read, review, and enjoy! You make writing even more enjoyable. See you next chapter**


	5. Chapter 5

**XXXXXX**

A gentle breeze stirred coarse sands beneath the feet of those who remained in Hueco Mundo. The portal that Yoruichi had taken Ichigo, Nel and Gabriel through had just closed, leaving a quiet, almost painfully awkward tension in its wake.

"Well that was…interesting," Azazel murmured, looking at the equally gobsmacked Michael, Sirzechs, Serafall, Isshin and Kisuke.

Rubbing his forehead, Michael cut an exasperated look at the Fallen Angel.

"You have always had a talent for understatement, Azazel."

"We need to share this to the appropriate channels," Sirzechs added, concern on his face. Seeing looks of alarm pass between many of the ones gathered, he continued.

"Just to Falbium and Ajuka. We need to find some way to quietly prepare for…whatever he could decide to unleash. I admit that I do trust in Amaterasu's benevolence, and her desire for peace, maybe she can stabilize him. Perhaps this could be a good thing."

"Perhaps," Serafall replied soberly, looking lost in her thoughts.

"It's not that bad of an idea, Michael," Azazel interjected. Raising a brow, he added, "You could probably do with letting that tight-ass Uriel and the ever stoic Raphael know about what's going on."

"Yes, I am aware," Michael begrudgingly admitted, looking uneasy.

"You all know what to say, and who to say it to. Isshin Kurosaki, Kisuke Urahara," Michael continued, looking to the silently watching Shinigami pair. "I am fully confident that you will be discrete, however, if you run into any issues with Soul Society, or any other faction for that matter, let us know. We will help in whatever way we can."

Tipping his hat, Kisuke replied, "Thank you, Michael-san. We will be fine, but the offer is appreciated. However, if you receive any information, I ask that you pass it on."

"Agreed."

With nothing else to say, Sirzechs, Serafall, and Michael all quickly disappeared in flashes of gold and red.

Sighing heavily, Azazel turned to the Shinigami men.

"Whew, what a day! Is it usually like this for you guys?"

"You'd be surprised," Isshin grunted, his arms crossed lightly over his chest.

"I don't know about you two, but I could use a drink. I know a couple of good places in Tokyo—should you want to come—pretty exclusive, but you'll have…fun, and they have a nice selection of cures for what the lovely Yoruichi did to you, Kisuke."

"Fun? Cures? You mean a titty-bar?," Isshin asked, smirking at the indecently grinning Fallen Angel leader.

"Oh my," Kisuke said slyly, tapping his fan to his chin. "Cures don't sound too horrible."

"Hmm, well, the babysitter for the girls is good for at least another couple of days…"

"And I have an apartment in the city, should you need to sleep it off before returning," the Fallen added, doing his best to sweeten the deal. Drinking and getting crazy was fun, but when he could get others involved in it, the outings became far more entertaining.

Not to mention, these Shinigami seemed quite interesting to be around.

"Damn it, I could use a drink—or six," Isshin grunted. "We just need to pop by Karakura to pick up my body and a gigai for you, Kisuke."

"A gigai?"

"Ah, my Fallen friend," Kisuke sighed dramatically, patting Azazel's arm. "When we sober up tomorrow, you and I have much to talk about."

Dragging his cane across the sky, a dark tear appeared. "Let's go, gentlemen. We have so little time, yet so many things to forget tonight."

"You know, I think that I am going to really like you Shinigami," Azazel added, quietly laughing to himself as he stepped into the dark void.

 **XXXXXX**

Kyoto.

A sprawling metropolis in which ancient met new, the capital of olden times. The city was a marvel, its weathered edifices telling a tale that many who looked upon it were simply far too young to understand.

Kyoto.

A city that wore a different face for nearly all who entered.

To some, it was a mystical town, a site where one could glimpse the Imperial facade. A city of learning, where history was within the very air one breathed, Kyoto was all but a pilgrimage for those born within Japan's shores.

To others, those sensitive to the world of the supernatural, the ancient city was quite a different place.

Yokai capital of Japan, and the tempestuous oscillator of the strongest leyline in the land. The ancient metropolis was a crowning jewel of the gods, one of the last sites still clinging to its purity from the pollution of modernity, of most that was _other._

Yasaka, reigning Kyuubi of the city, leader of the Yokai faction and the appointed regulator of the enormous energies that converged so recklessly within her domain, breathed deeply in the warmth of the setting sun from her perch atop her balcony.

Today was _the_ day, and the actual hour drew nigh for the event that she had been so nervously anticipating ever since the words left her Lady's lips.

Ichigo Kurosaki was already within the borders of Kyoto, and he would likely enter her court within the hour. This meant that, for the first time in history, Samael would be among the lords and guardians of the Shinto pantheon.

 _And here I was, thinking that just having the little sisters of two Maou's within my country would be stressful enough._

The supernatural world could be quite the vindictive bitch, sometimes.

Shaking her head before her thoughts could inspire any significant scorn from Lady Amaterasu, Yasaka turned her thoughts back to the phone call she had recently made to one of her oldest friends…

"Hello?"

"Yoruichi, it's me.."

"Me? Funny enough, I don't know anyone by that name."

 _Already with the catty games?_ Yasaka rolled her eyes. _It's every time with her._

"Your ears can pick up footsteps nearly a mile away, Yoruichi Shihoin, recognizing a voice should be nothing for you. That is, unless old age has dulled your senses. Feline senility, who would have thought?"

"My my, testy, aren't we? I see that even measuring in dog years hasn't allowed you to age as gracefully as my youthful self."

She did _not_ just say that! Centuries had passed, yet their nonsense persevered. Momentarily forgetting her purpose for calling, Yasaka snarked back.

"I see your propensity for petty bitchiness has only grown."

"Apropos, coming from a Kyuubi."

Caught short by the snide comment, Yasaka smiled slightly on her end. It was pleasant to occasionally escape the bonds of propriety, and her conversation partner at the moment was perfect for that.

However, a glance at the scorched floor of her throne room was enough to bring her attention back to the purpose of her call.

"Yoruichi, I—I need your help…"

Picking up on Yasaka's sudden drop in tone, Yoruichi became serious.

"What's going on? Are you and Kunou ok?"

"We are fine, for the moment. Honestly, I do not know where to begin. I suppose the first thing I should ask is, what can you tell me about Ichigo Kurosaki?"

"…"

"Yoruichi?"

"Do you know where he is?"

"Yoruichi, this is important. I need to know—from your own lips—"

"Do you know where he is?! _Don't_ play games with me, Yasaka. Where is Ichigo?!"

The sudden turn in attitude from the shinigami was startling.

"Yoruichi! Calm yourself. I do not know exactly where he is, but I know where he is going to be soon. Clearly you are far closer to him than I expected. He is the reason I am calling you now."

"Do you know if he's safe?" The words were a whisper, a threat in their own right.

 _Just who is this boy to her?_

"Here is all that I know to tell you…"

It had taken much less time than she had expected, yet Yasaka had relayed all she knew of recent events that had occurred to her friend of many, many years.

The moment she had finished, a several minute long tirade of curses, insults and shouts about Kisuke Urahara, Isshin Kurosaki, the Gotei Thirteen, and the biblical faction leaders spewed out of Yoruichi's mouth, raging loudly until she finally fell silent.

Knowing that she would need a moment to gather her thoughts, Yasaka remained silent. With a loud sigh, Yoruichi finally continued.

"That's not a name that I ever expected to hear from your lips. Ichigo is a treasured pupil of mine, almost like family. I helped him storm Soul Society, protect Karakura, and go traipsing off to Hueco Mundo. The boy is everything the word 'Hero' is supposed to mean. Trust me, no matter what the hell this 'Dragon Eater/Venom of God' asshole does, Ichigo Kurosaki is someone you'd be lucky to have in your domain. That boy was born to protect."

"I see that I was right in reaching out to you, Yoruichi. This has been an incredible day. Lady Amaterasu's wrath is still evident here in my throne room, and—though I am still quite unnerved about these developments—I am relieved at what you've told me."

"Yeah, well I am about to reach out to Kisuke and Isshin in a way that's going to make it hard to breathe for a few days."

That was no idle threat, coming from Yoruichi. However, the idea had potential…

Yasaka paused, recognizing opportunity.

"I see. I think I have a way to help with that. Did I mention that they are currently en route to Hueco Mundo? Our Mother informed me that she felt them entering a garganta just recently."

"You don't say…"

"Indeed. It would seem that both Kisuke and Isshin are with him, not to mention a cadre of biblical leaders."

"Hmm, I think I may just look into this."

"Yoruichi?"

"Hm?" she responded, clearly distracted.

"He needs to come to Kyoto. Lady Amaterasu would like nothing more than to see her Child, to show him the love of his Family. Her grief over his state is true, and deep. Bring him to Kyoto… _to her_."

"He'll come. He'll be grumpy as hell, but he'll come. Trust me."

"Yoruichi?"

"Hm?"

"I trust you to understand that I have to ask this. Is Kunou safe around this…this…"

"Young man, Yasaka. Ichigo is a young man, and though there will be times that you'll want to wring his neck in frustration, I've got a feeling that once he meets your little girl, there will be no one in any realm who would keep her safer."

 _….._

Looking out once more to the grand city that was her home, Yasaka felt much more confident, having spoken with someone so close to Ichigo.

Yoruichi's words had given her such relief.

Though, as she thought about it, relief seemed further and further from actuality. Perhaps it was simply confidence in the notion that neither Samael, nor Ichigo, would try to destroy her city with Yoruichi there to calm him?

Sighing at the thought, she glanced once more at the scorched file that her Lady had given her. Though certainly a handsome young man, the image of Ichigo that had been clipped to the file showed a boy who had clearly been forced to grow beyond his years.

Impossibly, it seemed, Kisuke Urahara had been able to obtain an image from Ichigo's fight with Sosuke Aizen.

Countless battles had helped define the tight lines around Ichigo's eyes, and Yasaka's own experiences allowed her to suss out what she would be willing to bet was a near-permanent scowl. Tracing her fingertip lightly over the image, she frowned, herself.

 _Poor boy. Mother is right, regardless of the fact that this whole venture scares me to death, he certainly deserves better than what he's received._

She could do this. She could welcome a scorned hero into her court, to allow him at least a moment of peace from the nightmare that had become his life. Her home could be his refuge, his sanctuary from what was to come.

 _Yes, I will just be welcoming the bearer of the Venom of God. The Dragon Eater. The very evil of the biblical God into my very presence. Nothing to worry about at all—_

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she huffed a sharp breath.

This is what it had been coming down to ever since Amaterasu had uttered her judgment. A struggle between pity for a betrayed young man, and fear at the possibility of what could be unleashed within her domain—within her own home!

While fully confident in her own power, it was the city she was looking upon, the city where she raised her precious daughter, that she feared for.

 _"You will protect him until he can protect himself."_

Such an ominous phrase her Lady had used, yet inescapable.

 _Protect? Just how am I supposed to look after the Venom of God?_

Looking to the setting sun on the horizon once more, she frowned, her patience all but evaporated. Where were they? This was not something she wanted to stretch out, preferring to be done with as soon as possible.

Yasaka wanted to see this young man in person, to judge with her own eyes the one she was to protect. Knowing that her Lady was to arrive soon, as well, Yasaka once more retrieved her mobile phone from her robes.

Pressing the key to dial, she took a calming breath, trying simply to ease her tension.

Hearing the ringing through her line, she paused as her ears picked up another noise. The sound was muffled, clearly some kind of music playing, yet she had no music in her throne room, certainly nothing that—energetic.

With a loud creak, one large door swung slowly open, allowing the music to flow freely and clearly from the foyer, ringing out in the cavernous room. Recognizing the loud guitar music of the not so distant past—as well as seeing a head of violet hair and dark-skinned hand holding a silver device entering her presence—Yasaka's eyes rolled, her lips quirked slightly upward, and her fingers returned to the bridge of her nose as she heard a soulful voice sing two annoyingly appropriate words.

"… _Foxy_ _Lady_ …"

 **XXXXXX**

Ichigo rolled his eyes as he watched the heavy, dark wooden door close behind Yoruichi.

It seemed that his mentors would never completely grow up. Whether it was vintage rock ringtones, head butting him in front of the leaders of religious factions, or busting his chops about how he was in front of pretty women, maturity seemed to fade from the adults in his life with each passing year.

Looking down to the purplish glow beneath the simple t-shirt he had been allowed to change into-after _heavy_ insistence-he felt a pang of envy.

A rather sharp pang.

Given what he'd experienced, what he'd gained—if it could even be called a gain— all he was _allowed_ to do was travel the realms and be forced to try and gain the approval of beings he'd never known existed.

It was all a rather big pain in the ass, if he was honest with himself. What else could he do at the moment? Going home wasn't an option, not with Soul Society likely on high alert.

Tracing the cold chains encircling his neck, Ichigo shook his head. Such thoughts had been plaguing him ever since he'd awoken with his new—accessories?

At the very least, he had inadvertently discovered that the chains were somewhat sentient, responding to his unspoken desires when he sought to change their form.

It had been nothing more than a simple shape change, but it was something, he supposed.

 _Still…_

Jealousy, anger, restlessness and more had been fluttering across his consciousness, like wisps of smoke trailing across his mind. Whispers of feelings, of memories now inexorably intertwined with his, never fully out of focus.

Sucking his teeth, Ichigo pushed away the train of thought. He had dealt with anger, guilt, and severe emotion for plenty of his life, what were a few more feelings to add to the list?

They'd be kept in check like all the others.

Surprisingly, he felt confident in that knowledge. For the moment. Samael had been strangely dormant since he had released their powers in the desert of Hueco Mundo, seeming to have withdrawn within himself. His presence was noticeable, but calm.

 _Fine by me, it's nice to have some damn peace and quiet for once._

Thinking of the quiet, he looked over to where Nel was sleeping soundly on a folded up jacket that they had purchased just for her. Her face was tranquil, a small smile giving him hope that she was having pleasant dreams.

 _At least she's happy_.

Sensing movement beside him, Ichigo knew that the peace he had been experiencing lately could not be attributed solely to Samael finally shutting up. Turning to face the blonde seraph, a gentle warmth bloomed in his chest as their gazes met.

"Everything okay, Ichigo?" Gabriel asked, an innocent look adorning her face.

His scowl softened as he exhaled, his clothes rustling gently as he leaned against a luxuriously decorated plinth. In fact, _luxurious_ felt a weak description of the grandeur that was the Yokai royal palace.

Exotic woods, tranquil ponds, and brilliant colors told only the beginnings of the splendor of Yasaka's dwelling. The palace had a supernatural feel, a distinguished presence that was most certainly not of human origin.

 _I really hope I don't break anything._

Placing his hands in his pockets, he returned his gaze to hers.

"Everything's fine."

"Fine?" she questioned, her innocent expression slowly clouding into a plea for trust.

Ichigo knew he was being distant, but it simply wasn't her problem. She had been so wonderful to him, protecting his life, coming to his defense, explaining what the hell was going on when he got lost…keeping the horrors that now haunted his soul at bay.

Seeing her gentle, trusting expression, it was clear that she held no judgment, only concern. Gabriel had expressed nothing more than a desire to befriend him, to help.

It still worried him, opening to her and allowing her past the emotional barriers he had erected around himself. He knew that her presence in his life was only temporary, that her soothing presence and calming touch would soon leave. Given the warmth in his chest every time he met her eyes, and the peace that came just from being near her, the potential for her absence was a thought too unbearable to dwell on for the moment.

 _Still, you can try_ not _being a total asshole to her._

"I'm just ready to get this over with. It's getting pretty annoying, being shuffled from place to place, letting a bunch of 'leaders' feel like they can pass their own judgments on me."

Seeing understanding light her eyes, the kind smile that crossed her lips seemed to be tugging at the corners of his own.

"I can understand your frustration. Samael and Michael were never known to get along, as you well know, and I can only imagine the way it's affecting you. Still, you have been doing very well, given what's been expected of you."

"…Huh?"

It was all he could ask. Doing well? _Well?_ How could being a living time-bomb be considered 'well'?

"I mean it, you have been doing very well under the circumstances."

"Angels aren't supposed to lie, you know. I may not have grown up with biblical teachings, but I think that's a pretty basic rule," he replied, a brow raised and the hints of a smirk on his lips.

Gabriel smiled, giggling prettily. Stepping forward, her white robes shuffling softly, she reached out and gently tapped the glowing orb in his chest.

"Now now, Ichigo, such modesty does not become you. I would expect a man who wore jeans, a t-shirt, a light jacket and boots to meet Amaterasu of all beings to be more sure of himself."

Looking down to his casual attire, Ichigo scoffed. He had been all too happy to change out of the robes Michael had lent him.

 _That's because I was tired of wearing a dress. Seriously, what's up with the Heavenly attire? Michael can call it a robe all he wants, it's a damn dress._

"I guess I'm not what you'd call formal, huh? Never been big on authority and all that, but I suppose she did demand nicer than the rest."

"You should not worry. While Amaterasu's temper may be legendary, so too is her love for her Children. Her love for her subjects is quite reminiscent of how God loved humans."

Ignoring the burn of indignation at the mention of the fallen deity, Ichigo raised a brow.

"You've met Amaterasu?"

"Oh yes. Part of my duties within Heaven is to act as liaison between factions. Michael has earned quite a bit of acclaim on the battlefield, so I take the lead in peacefully interacting with other pantheons for the majority of subjects. She is quite kind, and very humorous."

"That's good to know, actually."

Any information was good information, at this stage. Gods and goddesses, angels and devils, even yokai, there was so much going on in the spiritual world! He felt somewhat foolish for being as blind to it as he had been, but how could he have known?

There were no 'Life Outside of Mortality' manuals that he knew of.

Knowing that Yoruichi would soon be out to bring him into the court of the Yokai ruler, Ichigo shifted himself off of the plinth, turning quickly as the wood groaned loudly and balancing the exotic vase that had tipped perilously.

Breathing deeply as he caught it, he stepped carefully away, regarding the vase as though a wild animal, hoping not to break anything that was likely a priceless treasure.

"Good catch!" Gabriel said with a smile from behind him.

Her smile dimmed slightly, however, at the tension in Ichigo's eyes when he turned back around. It was far too easy to read him.

 _Anger, guilt, and not a little bit of frustration. How many have tortured themselves over what has happened before? Oh Ichigo, you must know that you are still you, that you still hold purpose in this world. You are not here for what you've done, you have been called because of who you are!_

"Ichigo."

"Hm?"

" _Ichigo_."

Turning from his quagmire of thoughts, Ichigo looked to see Gabriel peering at him closely. Stepping even closer to him, she gently placed her hands on his cheeks.

"Ichigo, do not fear the future, nor should you fret over the past. Though you may not be exactly the same, can you honestly tell me that you have lost who you truly are? Have you, Ichigo Kurosaki, lost the young man who defied gods and protected his home?"

Her eyes were unflinching, a piercing, brilliant sapphire gaze. Seeing a glimpse of his own face reflected back at him, Ichigo sighed, breaking the gaze.

"No, I guess not."

Collecting his thoughts, Ichigo was stunned at the manner in which this Angel had come to know him so fast. He could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice, she _believed_ in him. The trust inherent in the notion was staggering.

And so damn comforting.

With all that had happened, with all that he'd had to tolerate, he could only be grateful for what he could claim he'd gained, if only for a brief moment. Taking her hands from his face, he held them gently within his own.

"Thanks."

Her answering smile was yet again blinding. Gripping his hands even tighter, she answered, "Do not thank me. All I ask is that you see what I see, that you know what I so clearly know."

Releasing his hands, Gabriel's drifted to her sides, her angelic power rising as she released her wings. Spreading them behind her in a beautiful arrangement of pristine white, she reached to her right, her fingers disappearing within the graceful plumage.

With a small tug, her hand reappeared, a darkened feather held tenderly in her fingertips.

Ichigo's mouth dropped, astonishment written clearly on his features. During the trek to Hueco Mundo, Azazel and Gabriel had given him plenty of insight as to what distinguished a Fallen Angel from an Angel, as well as what staining of their feathers meant.

 _This can't be happening._

"Gabriel… I…"

Placing a fingertip softly on his lips, Gabriel quietly spoke.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, I believe in who you are, who you've always been, and who you will always be. I believe it enough to fight for it, to protect it from any threat from the outside, or within."

Taking her free hand from his mouth, she grasped his hand, turning the palm upward. With a sweet, caring smile, she placed the feather in his hand, curling his fingers carefully around the silky vane.

"I want you to have this. Let it remind you that you are never alone. Let it remind you that you are the master of your heart, and that heart still beats to protect those around you."

Once more brushing the skin of his cheek, Gabriel looked up with a shy grin that was quickly answered.

"And let it remind you to smile, as you are doing now. Happiness has not been taken from your grasp. It may have taken a different form, and may feel elusive, but I believe that there is happiness, even for the bearer of The Venom of God."

Ichigo's breath caught in his throat, the gravity of what now rested in his hand weighing on his mind. A seraph of Heaven, one of the _four_ _Great Seraphim—_ a term that now held significance— gave him a stained feather that had only become so by her actions on his behalf?!

"Gabriel, I don't know what to—"

"Ah ah ah ah!" she tutted, playfully tapping his nose. "None of that, now! You have plenty to worry about in your life, and I want this to bring you happiness. Know that you are special, Ichigo Kurosaki. Not only in and of yourself, but to me. I can't say exactly why, but you have made a great impression upon my own existence. I would be happy to continue showing you the life, the experience, of being an angel. I can teach you to fly, to wield light, to manage your cards!"

Caught in the spell of her enthusiasm, a smile eased his expression. So welcome were her words, her spirit, that Ichigo could barely make out enough words to form a sentence.

"I think I'd like that."

Reaching up, he held the quill of her lustrous feather to his chained neck. Focusing hard he watched her eyes widen in surprise, then soften into a smile as the links quietly morphed, shifting to securely grasp the darkened feather.

 _Huh, it worked._

The moment was shattered, however, as a long, loud groan of straining wood alerted them to Yoruichi's reappearance in the foyer.

"Alright Ichigo, time to meet—oh…"

Seeing Ichigo smiling softly at the happy seraph, her brows rose quickly at the newest addition to his chain.

 _Wow… Just… Wow._

Had she misjudged the angel? Sure, she hadn't thought horribly of her, but her hackles had risen when seeing such looks on the woman's face. Yoruichi would always feel protective of Ichigo, especially his heart.

 _Though it looks like this pretty little seraph was able to get to it._

A stained feather from a seraph, something Yoruichi had heard of many years before only in the realm of those fallen.

 _This woman risked falling… For Ichigo?_

She would wait, and watch. Maybe this was a good thing? Seeing the softening of Ichigo's face, what else could she do?

 _Still, not really the best time for a first-time love connection._

"Anyway," she began, choosing to ignore what she was seeing for the moment. "You're going to meet Yasaka first, then company will join us soon after."

Turning to go back into the throne room, Yoruichi spared him one last glance, "Oh, and Ichigo?"

"Yeah?" he replied, a fading dusting of his cheeks evidence to his prior thoughts.

"Yasaka's not Yamamoto. She is an old friend of mine, and you are my prized student. Be polite, and don't make me look bad."

"Ah, give me a break. When have I ever been ru—" he began, only to be cut off by a narrowed glare.

"Geez, fine!" he grumbled, rolling his eyes, gently picking Nel up and walking beside Gabriel into the Yokai leader's throne room.

He knew that he wasn't the best at the whole 'manners' thing, but did she really think that _now_ was the time he was going to start? He had absolutely no patience left, was stressed about all that had happened, and now he had to meet the goddess of his homeland?

Biting his cheek, Ichigo agreed with himself that he would try. He would really _really_ try.

 **XXXXXX**

Yoruichi was silently thanking the heavens as Ichigo perfectly greeted Yasaka. She had certainly touted him as her prized pupil, the product of her innovative and meticulous teaching, and he was delivering.

Standing with pride, she watched as her student made her smile. Once he had set Nel down on one of many beautiful benches lining the room, he had spoken politely, even bowing and showing at least a modicum of deference to the Kyuubi's authority!

It couldn't have gone any—

"There, Yoruichi, are you happy now? I was polite, respectful and all that other crap. So where is Amaterasu? Wasn't I dragged all over creation to have some meet and greet with her?"

 _Shit. I knew that blockhead was laying it on too thick! And of course, there is that smug look on that damn fox's face! Stupid damn blonde bi—_

 _SMACK_

"Hey! Damn it, Yoruichi, what in the hell was that for?!"

 _SMACK_

"What did I tell you?! Literally two seconds before you stepped in here, what did I tell you? Just how hard is it to make a good impression, you hard-headed jackass?!"

 _SMACK SMACK_

"What is wrong with you?!" she growled, frowning at her strangely sore hand and his lack of physical reaction.

"Well first, you're hitting me! Second…remember when I told you about falling into the Underworld?" Ichigo snapped, giving a meaningful look to Yoruichi.

"The river Styx…" she whispered, realization dawning on her face.

 _ZZZAP_

"Ow! Damn it, you don't have to use kido!"

Musical laughter interrupted the spat, causing Ichigo to pause, looking to the source. Seated on her imposing throne, the Yokai woman who had been the epitome of royalty, one of the most poised, beautiful, graceful creatures he had ever met or imagined, was now doing her best to contain her mirth as his mentor continued hitting him.

 _Well that's different._

He couldn't recall ever seeing royalty or nobility smile, much less laugh. And it clearly pissed off the woman who was currently hitting him with a hand wrapped in sparking kido.

Hitting him rather hard.

"Okay okay, fine! Just quit hitting me, damn hellcat!"

Suddenly, all of Yasaka's attempts at containing her mirth and maintaining her dignified poise failed with a rather loud bark of laughter.

Looking to the ruler once more, who had now sunken into her throne and fallen into near hysterical laughter, Ichigo followed her gaze to the near-apoplectic-with-rage Yoruichi.

 _Uh oh…_

Turning to Gabriel, who seemed quite entertained by the antics of the two women, Ichigo began to slowly back away from his mentor. Before he could move far, he found his ear painfully pinched in the viselike grip of said mentor's electrified fingertips.

"Ayayaya! That hurts, damn it!"

As he was processing the pain in his ear, a warm, enveloping aura began filling the room. The sensation was comforting, drawing his attention to the opening door of the throne room.

In quick succession, the orb in his chest thrummed excitedly, its energy churning throughout his form. His body felt warm, growing more so by the second. Even within the confines of his soul, he felt a dark stirring, a malevolent force rising to meet the new aura.

The aura that was expanding seemed to wrap around him, gently pressing against him from all sides. The warmth felt familiar, felt peaceful, felt _right._ Whatever it was, whoever it was, his soul recognized it—welcomed it.

Within the throne room, all paused as a melodious voice chuckled. Turning to the source, Ichigo froze when he witnessed a regal, unnaturally beautiful woman floating gracefully into the room. A kind, benevolent countenance adorning her features, her very presence overwhelmed the area.

"Ah, but such is the price for so thoroughly embarrassing your teacher, Ichigo Kurosaki."

Feeling the pressure on his ear immediately lessen, the same hand that had so roughly held him now gently guided him forward.

"Ichigo," Yoruichi said, her voice suddenly reverent. "I would like you to meet your homeland's goddess, our Mother, Amaterasu."

 **XXXXXX**

 _This can't be real._

It was all Ichigo could think as he watched the one Yoruichi called Amaterasu glide into the throne room.

Fair. Beautiful. So many words flittered across his mind to describe the celestial goddess, with just as many discarded. There was no word for her, no term that could encapsulate what it was he was witnessing.

Hypnotically watching her approach, Ichigo's eyes began to burn slightly, moisture pooling as his body refused to blink.

Her smile was warm, intoxicating in the extreme. Her presence tugging at a part of his soul that welcomed her, welcomed her proximity. Within a moment that could have lasted a second, an hour, a lifetime—he'd never know—she was before him, peering into his eyes with her own golden orbs.

"My Son," she whispered, a blinding smile greeting him as her hand gently rose to stroke his cheek.

Ichigo instinctively leaned into the contact, the comforting touch sending a shudder through his frame, touching upon memories long locked away. Tongues of fire coursed through his veins, Amaterasu's love and warmth surging throughout his soul.

Within his chest, Hogyoku glistened and churned, seeming compelled to respond to the goddess of the land of its creation. No words came from the orb, simply a rush of emotion, a wave of content.

However, as rapidly as her touch was introduced, the darker aspect of his soul rose to greet her. Waves of anger, of hatred and jealousy devoured the warmth that had been so wonderfully close, leaving ashes of bitterness behind.

Lurching at the sensation, Ichigo steadied himself, grasping tightly to the chain that hung so heavily around his neck. Gasping slightly, he fought to clear his mind from the waves that felt so intimate to him.

"Oh, my Child," Amaterasu sighed ruefully, gently resting her hand atop his head.

Through strained eyes he slowly looked up, swallowing the harsh emotions that fought desperately for recognition. Resentment, frustration, and indignation roiled just beneath the surface, each doing their best to claw their way forward.

He was just so _furious._

Why? He couldn't honestly say, but the rage would not fully subside. It was under control, now, but still lurking beneath the surface. Looking around the room, he angrily noticed the worried looks on the faces of those around him.

 _Seriously?_

So he has a little trouble with Samael's emo-side and now everyone is back to thinking he's a time-bomb?

 _It_ was _pretty crappy timing. Still, I'm sick of being looked at like this. Fuck it._

Standing tall, he rolled his shoulders, clenched his teeth, and viciously stomped down the swarming emotions as best he could. If he was going to make a scene, it would at least be on _his_ terms, not Samael's.

Having met Yoruichi's stressed gaze, he grumbled, "Don't look at me like that, I'm fi-"

A long, elegant finger pressed softly against his lips. Meeting the face now inches from his own, Ichigo's heart skipped at the solitary tear that trickled down Amaterasu's cheek.

"Do not be troubled, Ichigo Kurosaki. You have become more than the Child I have watched over. You need not worry yourself for the curse inflicted upon you."

Ichigo bit his cheek at the wave of indignation that roared within him at the slight.

 _Really? That's what you're getting pissed about? Shut up, you know she's right. You said it yourself._

The surge of emotion calmed significantly when he felt a soft hand take his own. Turning to his left, he saw Gabriel standing by him, a worried countenance marring her face. How she always managed to calm him, he wished he knew, he only knew that he was beyond grateful for her presence and compassion.

Huffing loudly, Ichigo stood, keeping Gabriel's hand within his own. Taking a breath, he cleared his throat, shaking his head.

"Yeah, uh…sorry about that."

He was met with a look of sudden fondness from Amaterasu, her eyes alight with mirth. With a musical chuckle, she smiled. "I recall the first time you said that, when you first encountered the hollow Zangetsu. You fought bravely then, as you have done just now."

Turning to the seraph holding Ichigo's hand, Amaterasu raised a brow at the contact and continued, "Gabriel of Heaven, you are most welcome here. Word of your deeds has reached Takamagahara. I am glad to see you again, and I thank you for your kindness to my Child."

Gabriel bowed slightly, smiling. "Thank you for welcoming me, Lady Amaterasu. I am thankful that I have been able to help Ichigo."

"And help him, you have. I must admit—"

 _YAWN_

"I-Itsygo?"

All present turned quickly, looking to the waking Nel, who was yawning cutely and stretching.

Looking back to Amaterasu, Ichigo received an encouraging smile and nod. With a nod of his own, he quickly walked to the bench where Nel sat looking around in growing awe.

"Itsygo!" she cried as he pulled her up to his shoulder. "This place is really big! It's so pretty!"

Nel continued looking around the room while Ichigo walked back to the center of the room, staring in wonder until she met Amaterasu's gaze. Her head cocking curiously, Ichigo felt the little arrancar begin to calm.

Once back to standing before the goddess, he noticed Nel lean forward, her hand outstretched as though in a trance.

"Greetings, Child. I have been eager to meet you, Neliel tu Oderschvank."

"Ooooh, you're a pretty lady! Really strong!" Nel responded, the trance seemingly broken.

With a toothy smile, she turned back to Ichigo. "Itsygo knows lotsa pretty ladies!"

Ichigo shook his head fondly as all present laughed. However, the humor quickly died down as Amaterasu spoke once more.

"My Son, before we may speak on what your future could hold, there is one more matter of business we must attend to. I ask your patience and understanding."

With a wave of her hand, a bright light flashed from just outside the throne room, and a familiar spiritual pressure emanating from the open doors. Ichigo's skin began to tingle, an uncertain warning pressing on his mind as the lid that he had been able to place on his anger became far more tentative.

Whatever it was that she had done, whatever she had conjured, was bad. Bad for his temper, bad for those around him, just… _bad._

The white hot rage that was creeping through his nerves and boiling his blood was not solely Samael's response, this time. The ancient instinct that was now coiled along his spine had become his own, and was now baying for blood.

Yes, he recognized the spiritual pressure coming from the foyer. It was a pressure he had felt not long ago.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, it is good to see you doing well," a gravelly voice called, being quickly accompanied by the hulking figure of Genryusai Yamamoto.

"You've got to be kidding me," Ichigo groaned, his body tensing and his wings bursting into sight.

He turned, quickly handing Nel to Gabriel and shuffling them behind him. Feeling an instinctive surge of power, he flicked his hand, creating an angry purple beam of light that roughly fashioned itself into a blade.

"Ichigo!" Gabriel cried in surprise, a feeling mirrored by most gathered. "What are you doing?"

"This is not the time, nor is it the place for a confrontation, boy. Drawing blades here will bring nothing but harm," Yamamoto agreed gruffly.

"Ah shove it, old man! I'm sick of everyone else dictating the terms of my life. That crap stops now."

Stamping his cane once, the wood began to fall away from the shinigami captain commander's sword. "I will not warn you again. Discard your weapon, or I will be required to remove it by force."

"A warning, this time? That's pretty new for you, huh? If you want to show your blade, two can play that game," Ichigo growled in return, lowering his blade of light before it flickered and dispersed.

There were no words to describe his anger, no terms to capture the rage that coursed through him. The old bastard had been judge, jury, and executioner before, and _now_ he wanted to talk? Yet even more than that, Ichigo felt an all consuming fire burn through him at the threat that was Genryusai Yamamoto.

A threat to Nel. To Gabriel. If he were to eliminate Ichigo as quickly as he must have wanted, what was to stop him from attacking the arrancar or angel who were with him? Amaterasu may have brought him here, but he knew the old man was capable of more destruction than he was willing to allow.

He knew it to be true, yet were he completely honest with himself, much of his anger boiled down to the simple fact that Yamamoto had it coming.

 _And then some._

His reiatsu climbed, surging through his body. Arms tingled, muscles pulled taut, and a dark scowl affixed itself to his face. The air around him began to shimmer, distorting the area and filling the room.

Feeling a foreign, yet increasingly intimate, spiritual sensation within his palm, Ichigo shot his arm out to his side. The atmosphere around his side began to stir, and he quickly pressed his hand forward, only to roughly yank it free—tightly gripping a gleaming silver blade.

The very stones of the room around them shuddered under the onslaught of power released by the blade. The atmosphere around Ichigo howled in anticipation, the supernatural world itself bending around him.

Several voices cried out in alarm, trying to appeal to his reason, yet there was no reason to be found. This old man had to feel hurt, had to bleed, and he only exacerbated this need when he spoke once more.

"It would seem that you hold me responsible for what happened to you. I am who you blame for your circumstances, so you are looking for revenge, yes?"

Scoffing, Ichigo flicked his blade to the side, causing a loud _CRACK_ as his power gouged a deep rift in the floor of the throne room.

"Don't flatter yourself, you old bastard. Holding you responsible does nothing. No, at this point I just wanna give you another scar."

Without warning, Ichigo heaved himself forward, his wings pinned back and his blade rocketing forward—aimed for Yamamoto's chest.

 _CLANG_

Belying his age, the head captain's unsheathed blade caught Ichigo's just before it struck. Yet, Ichigo pushed harder, channeling his fury into his blade. He couldn't stop now, his rage wouldn't allow it.

The anger was palpable, tinting his world red. The man who had sent him down the path that cursed his being, the man who could not even be bothered to try and understand what had happened, the man who's blood he just _had_ to draw.

Reason was fantasy, practical thought a mere memory. Hatred flowed thickly within the blood in his veins, pumping heavily with each pulse of his heart. Ichigo had rarely felt this before, but it was intoxicating. The hate was seductive, pulling gently on his mind and promising him something…something just beyond his reach…

Pushing reiatsu and light into his blade, he quickly ground it against Yamamoto's, pulling it down with a sharp slice. The movement paid off, with a burst of energy crashing against Ryujin Jakka, yet it was wide enough that some slipped past, a sliver of energy catching the aged shinigami's scarred chest.

The room fell silent.

Stepping back, Ichigo paused, searching.

His eyes narrowed and a growl escaped him as he spied a small trickle of blood on Yamamoto's head.

 ** _A good start._**

The old man looked far from angry, however. He looked worn, weary…rueful?

The expression only served to stoke the fires of Ichigo's abhorrence. Yamamoto's elevated reiatsu and gravelly voice gave a stark reminder of the 'flap of a butterfly's wings' that sent his entire existence into turmoil.

His temper's limit had been reached. Ichigo wanted to hurt him, to show him exactly what he thought of his idiotic decrees and—

Releasing a hand from his sword, Ichigo drew it back and snapped it forward into Yamamoto's cheek.

The elder shinigami, the strongest shinigami in existence, grunted quietly as his head was forced slightly to the side.

 _Damn, that was satisfying._

Sword heating quickly, and with a tired sigh, Yamamoto spoke, "So be it. Reduce all creation—"

With each word, Ichigo's hand crept perilously closer to the chain surrounding his neck. The hatred within him whispered quietly, insistently, _more…_

 _"Enough!"_

A loud cry was sharp, powerful, oppressing the senses of all present. The shout a precursor to an enormous wave of heat that—though it only lasted moments—inescapably caught the attention of everyone present.

"I will _not_ stand idly by while two of my most favored Sons fight before my very eyes!"

Ichigo's hand froze, mere inches away from the cool metal resting against his chest. Snapping his attention to the woman who's very skin was throwing off bursts of flames, his focus faltered.

 _This woman…_

 _I don't want her to be sad._

The heartbroken expression marring the face of the flaming goddess doused the fires of his own fury and pulled violently against his reason.

"Ichigo, please!" another voice called, it's plaintive cry cutting through the fog of hatred and anger.

"He started it," he grumbled sulkily, rolling his eyes at the myriad of worried glances cast his way.

Feeling a soft hand caress his cheek, he looked down to see a distressed Gabriel still holding Nel in her other arm.

"Ichigo, stop this. It's alright, everything is alright."

Sighing loudly, he met her gaze. No judgment clouded her eyes even now, only concern.

 _It's not like I was gonna kill him…_

Ichigo couldn't deny that he felt slightly shaken. The burning hatred, the searing anger that had been his existence mere moments was the single most terrifying sensation he had ever felt. It had been suffocating, stifling…

No, more than that, it had been _breathtaking._

The feelings had been seductive, encompassing all that he was, yet bending to his will and funneling into…something. Yet, the strangest part was that he was no longer out of control. The sensation of Samael overwhelming him and pulling on his hate as if it were a string had not been present.

Weirdly enough, it was his own anger, just intensified.

 _My own spiritual turbocharger,_ he thought wryly to himself.

Gabriel seemed to sense his inner musing, as she turned to stand beside him, gently grasping his free hand. Ichigo's own eyes jumped back to Yamamoto, who's cut was being tended to by Amaterasu.

Seeing a burst of flames that consumed the shed blood, Ichigo felt a sharp pang of jealousy flare within him, leaving him disgruntled.

 _You could have at least left a bruise on his face, or something._

Before the feelings could grow, the elegant goddess turned to him.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, please, put away your blade."

He looked quickly down at the pulsating sword still gripped tightly in his fist, then around to those in the throne room. Gabriel and Nel's worry nearly matched Amaterasu's sadness, while Yamamoto himself looked weary. Yoruichi looked upset, which was mirrored by Yasaka, who was glaring accusingly between him and her destroyed court.

"Um… I don't really know how to do that," Ichigo muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

 _Damn, this is pretty awkward._

He may have forced down the hatred that was tempting him, but he couldn't say that he regretted his actions. Yamamoto deserved a whole hell of a lot worse.

Revenge had never been his style, as he'd usually rather understand his opponent.

 _Well, not exactly. When Ulquiorra said that he dragged Orihime to Hueco Mundo, I did kinda lose it. Still, this was just a little too easy to go for, and I have a feeling that it's just the tip of a nasty iceberg. Looks like you've helped screw things up pretty badly,_ he thought to Samael in annoyance. 

Ichigo's Sacred Gear's response was lost as he noticed Amaterasu gliding gracefully toward him. The darkness within him still roiled at her presence, yet he suppressed the feelings, focusing on the kind smile that was crossing the sun goddess' face.

"How curious that you would be the one to bear this blade. I suppose that it would only make sense."

"Huh?"

The smile warmed, Amaterasu's countenance becoming one of maternal pride. Stroking his cheek gently, her hand fell to the gleaming blade gripped tightly in his own hand. It quickly grew warm, humming in resonance with her touch.

"This blade is quite familiar to me. The God that created Kusanagi-no-tsurugi—the biblical God— came to me when crafting it, seeking quiet assistance in it's design. He wanted to create something other, something apart from the holy swords that he had constructed. This sword was meant to be _divine_ , something containing the parts of himself that he would bear no more. To create a fitting blade for the— For…"

Amaterasu paused, her eyes dropping slightly as she recounted the memory.

"For Samael," Ichigo finished, stunned at the revelation.

"Indeed," she agreed. "I confess I did not know it's intended destination at that moment. I had my suspicions, however. In the times I would speak with him, I could see his dissatisfaction with his less than holy nature, with Samael. Regardless, I provided a measure of my power to balance the sword, to provide a method of making it 'divine', thus allowing it to be distanced from his own presence."

Waving her hands over the sword, her powers coalesced around the blade, swirling with brilliant flames that eventually died out to reveal a dark black sheath now housing Kusanagi-no-tsurugi.

"My gift to you, Ichigo Kurosaki. A gift to assist you in controlling the darkness within you. This is no instinct, as Zangetsu was. You have the negative powers and essence of the biblical god within you. Your potential is beyond measure, both for good and evil."

Ichigo frowned at her words. He knew that what she said was true, yet having them thrown in his face was frustrating. He wouldn't be evil. He'd never be one to hurt the innocent, to add to the evils that plagued his world.

It simply wasn't going to happen.

Amaterasu's hand drifted upward to his chest, stopping to caress the glimmering Hogyoku.

"So many of my Children, so many hopes and dreams bound within a favored Son. I have allowed you control over the monstrous blade you now bear, and I will do what I can to give you dominion over the powers within."

When her words ended, Ichigo's eyes widened in astonishment. The world around him suddenly stood still, freezing in time and the goddess before him quickly faded into the orb within his chest.

 **XXXXXX**

Amaterasu's gaze was intrigued, piercing the smoke, flame, and falling ash as she ventured about the inner structures of Ichigo's soul.

It looked far more akin to a war zone than a soul.

Crumbling towers, flaming high-rises and ashen structures told the sad and horrific story of a world torn asunder. What was this place? What was his heart holding onto that made it appear so?

Sparkling tears trailed down her cheeks, each a crystalline tribute to the loss of her beloved Son. Her fingers ghosting over the jagged edges of the demolished aspects of Ichigo's soul, her chest tightened at the realization of just how deeply Samael's spirit was entrenched within Ichigo's.

Following a long, straight thoroughfare among the once towering structures, she paused as she came alongside one almost completely lost to ash and flame.

Atop the smoldering remains of the unknown aspect, a lone, pale figure sat upon a crude, throne-like chair of broken ruins. The figure's arms resting outwards on shards that served as armrests were joined by a myriad of ominous, outstretched, grey-feathered wings, as well as a larger pair of featherless wings.

Yet, what held her attention were it's eyes. Cold, obsidian, reptilian orbs stared at her, no discernible emotion held within. Barely moving to follow her own steps, the eyes quickly gained and held her own.

Samael.

So this was he, the Dragon Eater. The Angel of Death. The Venom of God and a hundred other names that had been attributed to him and his deeds.

Stepping even closer to the seated monster, Amaterasu avoided flinching at the stifling aura of anger, resentment and wrath that endlessly emanated from it. So cold, so different from what she had ever felt before…yet there was something about his presence, the tenor of his energy that lightly touched upon long forgotten memories.

Still, there was no mistaking the being before her.

"Samael."

Though hardly more than a whisper, the word weighed down upon the area, breaking the unseen wall that had formed the moment she had caught sight of him. It seemed to have worked, as Samael slowly, and quietly spoke.

 ** _"Merely a name, Shinto goddess. One of many that I seem to have inspired."_**

Raising a curious brow, she closely studied the fair face of the man before her. Though a stark amalgam of angel, fallen, and dragon, Samael carried an air of tightly maintained composure, a tentative lid atop a fount of untold fury.

Her curiosity grew. These were not the words she expected from the Angel of Death. The being that destroyed much of Heaven was supposed to be crazed, aggressive beyond reason. He was to be the embodiment of the wrath he had unleashed, yet his unconcerned remark on his name seemed the antithesis of all she had heard.

 ** _"Goddess or no, I will not be looked upon as material for study,"_** he suddenly growled, straightening within his makeshift throne and breaking her thought process.

 _And thus the serpent rears its head._

Nodding slightly in acuquiecense, she carefully replied, "Very well, I shall respect your wishes. However, I ask the same courtesy concerning my own. I merely wish to speak with you regarding your status as Ichigo's Sacred Gear, and your role in the future. I believe that, if given proper thought, you would find—"

 ** _"If given proper thought? Do you think me some fool? Do you think me a mere trinket the boy has discovered? Though bound for ages, I have lived no fewer years than you. Spew your wit and wile elsewhere, goddess! Speak your thoughts plainly,"_** he spat venomously, hands gripping the edges of the broken 'arms' of his throne as he cut her off.

Amaterasu's eyes narrowed dangerously, her mouth set in a hard line and her aura flared wildly. Though his lifespan was a fact often overlooked, her pride would _not_ stand for such blatant disrespect.

Especially with Ichigo's future hanging so delicately in the balance.

"Understand this, Samael, and understand well. Ichigo, regardless of what has occurred, will always be a beloved Son of these lands. You will _not_ break him, nor will I allow your hatred to hold sway. He is a protector, a warrior, and his life will continue to be lived as he wishes."

Oh, how she wished that she fully believed those words! Falling somewhere between a hopeful promise and nervous threat, Amaterasu knew that Ichigo would not emerge unscathed from his exposure to Samael. Her only hope was in Ichigo's own ability to affect the minds of those he encountered.

 ** _"The truth of life is the embrace of death."_**

Eyes narrowing coldly, Amaterasu snapped, "If you are to demand plain speech, you would do well to offer it."

A cruel sneer curled Samael's lip. The expression changed his entire countenance, making him harder, colder, wilder. Rising to his feet, his position allowed him to tower over the sun goddess, his imposing form wraithlike in the falling ash.

 ** _"You are as blind as he. You say 'my hatred' as if it were simply an emotion. Do you, a goddess, truly not understand what or who I am? I_** **am** ** _hatred! I am the scorned half of a pompous god, cast aside in pursuit of holiness, glory and praise. Break him? Allow me to hold sway? Take note of where it is you stand. I am a part of Ichigo Kurosaki, and your protector will no longer be allowed to martyr himself as a pawn for the masses. Protector? Not with my power. I would just as soon have him tear the tyrant gods from their lofty thrones."_**

"Is that so?" Amaterasu asked quietly. As she looked up, Samael was stunned to see a slightly supercilious look darken the goddess' face.

A single, incredulous brow lifted, with him staring in surprise. Giving no answer, he only continued to stare.

"Ichigo is a protector, he always has been. Yet, he has now been brought into a far larger world. Samael, given your blind and willful aversion to his overriding passion, I will ask: From whom do you think Ichigo will be required to protect not only the masses, but the ones he loves? Against whom do you think he—and by extension you—will stand? Our world is treacherous, as you have always known. There are many who seek to destroy this peace we have wrought. Gods, their servants, devils, fallen angels…dragons."

Her expression became passive as she watched her words slowly sinking in, the towering creature's own countenance one of stunned incredulity.

She knew what it was she had placed within the mind of the most dangerous amalgam to walk the earth since Trihexa, yet she held no compunctions about her words. The supernatural world was a gilded wild land, a shadowed battlefield embroiled in what many humans called a 'Cold War.'

And what an appropriate title it was. Across countless faction lines warriors, believers, dissidents and more waited with baited breath, each daring the other to make the first move. There were more than a few sparks amongst the powder kegs of beings called gods and goddesses, each held only just in check by the hell that would be unleashed should someone misstep.

Yet now, an unaffiliated juggernaut appears, bearing beings of unfathomable power within a Son—one with a rare, pure heart.

Perhaps the tides of the world could finally shift?

Saving the thought for further contemplation, she returned her attentions to the being before her.

She could almost see her words clattering within Samael's mind. The options, the _purpose_ that could be his were playing clearly across his face. It looked to be a debate, a struggle to determine just what he would be required to give.

As if to prove her point, with his brow remaining peaked, Samael slowly murmured, **_"Wit and wile, indeed."_**

"Time in this world moves quickly, keeping the future in motion. We shall speak further, when the time is right. You have much to consider, Samael," Amaterasu replied quietly.

Turning from the Angel of Death, she called out, "Hogyoku, I would speak with you."

 **XXXXXX**

" _What_ was _that_?" Ichigo groaned as time resumed its natural pace. Looking around, he saw that the rest of the room's inhabitants were just as perplexed as he was.

It felt as though he had been dreaming. His inner world had been as Samael had left it, but Amaterasu had…been there? Given that she had basically dissolved into his chest, he supposed that it made sense.

Things were incredibly fuzzy within the memory, his lens a thick haze. Whatever had happened, however, had made Samael silent.

 _Completely_ silent. No waves of emotion, no grumbling…nothing.

It was an ominous feeling, and Ichigo was nervous as to what his sacred gear could possibly be up to. Not only that, but the Hogyoku was tingling oddly within his chest.

"I needed an opportunity to speak with the being bound in your sacred gear," Amaterasu said as she slowly manifested back into the room.

"I thought it was just a dream," he whispered, the brief, hazy glimpses that he had seen being confirmed.

"No, I am afraid not. There is much for the both of you to consider, to discover of one another, my Son. How are you going to cope with the life you have attained? How will you face the loneliness that is the life of the Angel of Death? What will you do to move forward, Ichigo Kurosaki?"

"Uh…" Ichigo hedged. What was he supposed to say? He was just going to be himself. He'd find somewhere to go to figure out how to deal with Samael and—

"Might I offer a solution?"

Standing mere inches away, Amaterasu gently placed her hands atop his shoulders.

"Remain in Kyoto, at least for a time. Japan is your home. You will be safe, you will be guarded, you will be loved. Discover what it means to be the bearer of not only the Angel of Death, but of the Hogyoku. I am aware of the deck of cards that Seraphs possess, as well. You would do well to explore the options that can give you, and I am certain that Gabriel would be willing to instruct you in their use. You are not alone."

"But I am, I have to be," Ichigo countered. Everyone thought he was just being dramatic, but did they really not understand the situation? He wasn't going to hurt anyone, but he wasn't stupid, either.

"Don't you see the floor? Remember healing the old man? That's me. It wasn't Samael who did that, it was me. That hatred is mine now, but just because the old man got a small taste of what he deserved, it doesn't mean that I'm going to destroy the world. I'm really grateful that you've given me the chance to catch my breath, and I will, but I'm not dragging anyone else into this. I'll figure it out, and find some way to go forward."

The look that crossed her face formed a pit in his gut. If he had to guess, she had expected that answer, and seemed all the more disappointed by it. Dropping a hand, she left one still resting against him.

"I must depart, but I leave you with these words, my beloved Son: Do not wall off your heart. There is great hatred within your soul, but there is also great love. Be the boy that I have delighted in watching grow into a fine young man. Never forget, you are the only one who can choose your destiny. We will speak again, and soon about possible paths, Ichigo Kurosaki. Until then, rest safely within Kyoto. My priestess will look after you, farewell."

With a burst of brilliant light, the Shinto sun goddess disappeared.

"I too shall be taking my leave," Yamamoto said abruptly, turning to face Ichigo.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, I wish to express my regret at this turn of events. Consider yourself welcome within the Seireitei once more. Should you ever require assistance, Soul Society will proudly stand beside you."

"Tch", Ichigo scoffed, rubbing the back of his head.

 _That's one hell of a turnaround._

What was he supposed to say?

"Whatever you say, gramps. I'll believe it when I see it, but thanks anyway."

The shinigami head captain sighed, almost imperceptibly shaking his head. "My hope is to regain your trust, boy. You did a tremendous service for Soul Society, and I will not forget it. Perhaps one day you will be able to forgive."

Ichigo's eyes narrowed. The words sounded good, but his trust in the goodwill of Genryusai Yamamoto had been shaken. Still, perhaps there was one thing that he could do that could at least begin repairing the damage that had been done.

"It'd go a long way if you'd tell Rukia and the others that I'm okay."

After a long pause, Yamamoto responded. "Very well."

With a heavy tap of his cane, a senkaimon appeared and, just as quickly, disappeared along with the form of the head captain.

The silence that followed his departure was stifling, full of awkward tension.

"That could have gone worse, I suppose," Yoruichi grumbled, shifting her weight onto one hip and her hands to both.

"Right," Yasaka drawled, dropping into her throne with a huff.

Raising a brow, she continued sardonically, "It was only my throne room that was all but ruined. We are so fortunate that they decided to stop before destroying my whole palace."

"If you're looking for an apology from the head captain, I'm afraid you're barking up the wrong tree," Yoruichi replied, raising a brow herself.

"Is that so? Perhaps I'll get one from your most recent scratching post," the Kyuubi pondered, resting her chin on her fist with a tired glance at Ichigo.

After a moment of silence in which both women smirked at the clueless Ichigo, he muttered, "Oh, um…Sorry about your floor?"

"Damn, he actually said it," Yoruichi chuckled.

"I take it that this is a rare thing?" Yasaka asked.

"Indeed."

Feeling a tightening on his hand, and hearing a giggle to his side, Ichigo turned to see Gabriel smiling at the antics of the other two women.

Turning back to him, she released his hand, bringing hers up to gently touch the feather clasped by his chains. With a nod and a giggle, she once more cutely tapped his nose.

"Ichigo, do not forget what I told you. You are not alone, nor will you be. You have friends, and people that care about you, so no more of this lonely talk! We will help you figure this out, and find a path for you."

Ichigo sighed, a small smile crossing his lips. He was coming to understand the difficulty in maintaining a scowl around Gabriel. Her energy and positivity were somewhat infectious, and her presence was a soothing balm for the chaos of his life.

 _She's definitely going to ruin my rep._

"Now come on!", she cried, grabbing his hand and suddenly dragging him toward the door of the throne room. "I have your deck with me, and I can show you how it works!"

His protests went unheeded as the bubbly seraph dragged him from the room, Nel in tow.

Within the room, the remaining two women stared at the doorway in disbelief.

"Is this what I can expect, having him living in my house?" Yasaka asked, her tone a mix of astonishment and worry.

"I wish I could tell you that this was rare, Yasaka. All I can say is, at least it won't be boring."

 **XXXXXX**

Blinking lights painted the decadently designed room, with loud, thumping music drowning out the mindless chatter of many of the relaxing businessmen present.

Odin smirked as he sipped on the—who knows how many this made—drink in his hand. While he often enjoyed coming here with Azazel, not to mention the wonderfully never-ending supply of lovely and 'friendly' women, the shinigami that he had shown up with tonight were just as entertaining.

"…you can't be serious! Tell me it isn't true!" the one named Isshin wailed, draining his drink before falling back with his arm over his face.

"She told me, herself. Apparently, they were alone in a cave just outside the Seireitei right after he beat Kenpachi, she pulls off one of her transformations, and the first thing he does is blushes and tells her to put her clothes on!" the man who revealed himself to be Kisuke Urahara chuckled, patting his friend on the back.

"No! He get's to see Yoruichi completely naked and wimps out?! What kind of son did I raise?!"

"Wait," Azazel slurred, holding his hands out for emphasis. "You mean to tell me that Ichigo got to see that total babe of a woman, and he just told her to put her clothes on?! Damn, I think I feel a little less sorry for him, now."

"Well, I thought so too until I saw who he has worrying over him. Most beautiful woman in Heaven my ass, she could probably claim the title for most dimensions!" Isshin muttered.

"Given that he could actually pull his head out of his ass long enough to see that," Kisuke added, the liquor freeing his speech.

Chuckling to himself, Odin raised his glass to the group. "Your boy sounds just like my Rosseweisse. That girl is going to die a virgin unless she actually shows a little—"

" _Ahem."_

His brows rose in surprise at the timid clearing of the throat just behind him. Turning to look, he chuckled at the heavily blushing Valkyrie in question that had come to stand behind him.

"My my, dear, your ears must have been burning!"

"Lord Odin, please do not say such things! Especially to these men that we have never met!"

"You wish for me to lie to them? I've told you before! You'll never get a boyfriend unless you start loosening up and going for them."

"Lord Odiiiiiiin!" she whined, burying her face in her hands. Murmuring to herself, she continued, "I do not know how to attract a man! I shall be alone as long as I am alive!"

Winking to the men around him, he turned back to her and asked, "Would you like to practice here? I'm sure these fine men would be glad to give you some pointers on flirting with men. In fact, you could be our entertainer for the night, should you be willing to show a little—"

 _"Lord Odin!"_ she cried scandalously, wrapping her arms over herself. "You should not say these things, nor should you be in such a place! Think about your status!"

Rolling his eye at the chastisement, he grumbled, "Then what does my little valkyrie want, other than to ruin my good time?"

Straightening to attention, Rosseweisse's arm snapped forward, a sheet of paper held in her hand.

"A missive from Takagamahara."

Odin sobered slightly. Taking the paper from the girl, he quickly dismissed her.

A missive from the Shinto? Given what he had just heard from the men around him, this could only be related.

 _How interesting._

It had to be from Amaterasu. That woman was the only one of the Shinto pantheon that he actually got on with, the others quite lacking in social graces—as was the case with most gods, it seemed. Still, she knew he would be here.

He always was, whenever he visited Japan. Amaterasu was all too aware of the fondness he held for the Daughters of Japan. So soft, so lovely, and always so friendly.

Not to mention the sensual wiles of the sun goddess herself.

 _My my, what a fine rear on that one! So,_ he thought as he shook his head from the digression and opened the paper _, So, what part will the Norse play in this most interesting of tales?_

His brow rose slightly as his mind processed what he read.

 _Oho…well, now. How could she possibly know that I had tracked it down? Quite a clever little vixen, she is._

"Something good, old man?" Azazel called out, peering over his own glass at the opened missive.

"Mmm."

"If it's from Takagamahara, I can only imagine what it entails. I am curious as to the Norse involvement in our little drama," Kisuke added, a knowing look on his face.

Chuckling at the wit of the brainy brats that sat around him, Odin nodded and passed the paper to the shinigami. It took a moment for their alcohol addled eyes to read it through, but when they did, each man's gaze widened considerably.

 _I love it when these youngsters begin to see things in a new light._

"Is this actually saying what I am thinking it is saying? Or have I really had that much to drink?" Isshin grumbled.

"Indeed it is. An interesting proposal, I must admit. I would be most curious to see the Venom of God in such a situation, not to mention what it would mean should he succeed."

"Pandora's box was quite the curiosity too, look where that got us," Azazel muttered, finishing his current drink.

Odin shook his head. He knew that they would be reluctant to consider it. Hell, had he not known his own strength, it would have worried him as well.

Still, from all he had heard of the boy—and that was quite the dossier—this would be a fine test of his skill and control over the monster that now resided within him.

 _Samael, who would have thought? That vanity came with a price, Holy One. Even so, this is an opportunity that would suit nicely, and it could give the kid a chance to actually survive the shitstorm that will follow him for the rest of his existence. That, and my brat could do with a decent ass kicking._

"Why you?" Isshin asked, his eyes narrowed quizzically. "No offense, of course, but why would the Shinto sun goddess be talking to the Norse Allfather about _my_ boy?"

"Simple enough, son! Friends are hard to come by in the upper echelons of the supernatural world. Amaterasu knows that she can trust me, and knows that I'm far more, shall we say—open minded, than many of my counterparts. We've known each other longer than all your lives put together, and with that comes a certain level of friendship. That, or she's just madly in love with me."

The quip earned a round of boisterous laughter. Settling back in his seat, the Allfather continued, "I'll make some arrangements, then we can talk on it further."

"Who knows? It could be good for him," Kisuke sighed after a long moment, leaning back with another loud sigh.

"Ugh, I'll talk to him soon. For tonight, we need some more drinks, and I think a few of these oh-so-lovely ladies to come and listen to a selection of our more heroic tales," Isshin muttered, setting his empty glass down with a sharp _chink._

Chuckling once more, Odin grinned. These shinigami were fun. Good men were hard to come by these days, and he'd have to thank Azazel for finding some decent drinking partners.

 _Still, first thing's first._

With a sharp snap of his fingers, a beautiful woman dressed in revealing attire appeared at his side. Smiling wickedly, she sat on the arm of his chair, playing gently with his beard.

"How may I assist you, you dirty old man?"

Slipping his arm around her, Odin grinned lasciviously, "We are going to need quite a few more drinks, as well as some lovely company for my friends."

Smirking at the wide-eyed men around him, he winked, "Welcome to the club, gentlemen."

 **XXXXXX**

Pacing the floor of what had been revealed as his room, Ichigo gazed at the cards in his hand, distaste evident on his face.

Gabriel had told him quite a lot about his deck, from power levels to combinations, ways to maximize their effectiveness. She had even planted the idea of him being actually being able to live with and near his friends, should he give them a card.

An idea that caused his chest to tighten with intense want every time it crossed his mind.

He couldn't help it. As much as he wanted to protect the ones he loved, his soul's newest acquisitions brought with them a loneliness that was inherently bitter. A separation from that which was even remotely human, and an introduction into a life of no peace, no security.

 _Not that it was sunshine and roses to begin with._

The deck in his hand thrummed with so much potential. Wasted, unusable potential.

Yet, all of his disgust with the system, his anger at the shimmering blue stars on each card boiled down to one simple fact: They would have to be reincarnated as angels.

 _Reincarnate someone as a Heavenly angel? Bullshit, more like dragging them to Hell with me… Or at least it would be Hell if the devils weren't scared of me._

There was no way that he'd ever drag his friends into the insanity that was this world. Gods, dragons, and more political nonsense than he'd ever been exposed to were not things that he would want to subject those dearest to him to.

Not even Nel, who had followed him so willingly. She was innocent, and still possessed a choice of whether or not she stayed.

No, he would never take that from her.

Seeing Nel smiling in her silly, heartwarming manner as she ran to greet him only increased his ill will towards the cards.

How could he even remotely consider taking away her innocence? She was pure, her presence and naïveté something of a gift in the midst of so many supernatural beings, each seemingly with their own agenda.

"I'm fairly certain that you can't stare a hole through those, even though it's a pretty impressive stare," Yoruichi chuckled.

His eyes flicking from the cards to his mentor, he could only huff his agreement.

"Worth a shot."

"I know what you're thinking, Ichigo, but is it really such a bad idea? It could mean a lot of things, this deck, and not all of them bad."

Feeling a thrum of energy in his palm, he quickly returned his attention to the glowing blue deck. Ichigo immediately knew that he hated not only the cards, but the entire system behind them.

He hated what they meant to those who were unlucky enough to receive them, and utterly loathed the fact that the bridge to connecting with someone-anyone-would mean more than subjecting them to an eternity of servitude, but trapping them in a world that seemed to know less peace than the damned Soul Society!

Loosing a frustrated growl, he flung the offending cards violently across the room. With a series of loud _shick'_ s, the deck scattered—some fluttering to the floor, while others flew fast enough to embed themselves firmly within the wall.

"How could it possibly _not_ be bad, Yoruichi?!" he snapped, rounding on her. "I'm not making anyone a slave, and I'm not pulling anyone else into this shit! No one I would want by my side deserves that fate, and I sure as hell don't want some random assholes tied to me for the rest of eternity, so what could make you think this is good?!"

Giving clear warning through a sharply raised brow, the violet-haired princess met his gaze with a hard one of her own.

"Yeah! We'll show those cards, Itsygo!" Nel cried, interrupting the moment as she jumped down from the luxurious settee and landed with a loud _thud,_ collecting the attention of the room _._ Running over to where a majority of the cards had landed, she began stomping on them, cutely trying to inflict further punishment.

Brow still raised, Yoruichi bit down the smirk that had arisen and turned her hard gaze back upon Ichigo.

"Ichigo Kurosaki, I know you are stressed, but if you snap at me like that again, I'm going to spread your teeth around this room far better than you did your cards. I'm on your side, if you couldn't tell by now, and I am not going to be spoken to that way simply because your definition of morality was offended. I swear, sometimes you're more emotional than girls your age."

"I—"

"You're stretched thin, I get it. I can understand, somewhat, the loneliness that must be staring you in the face after what you've gone through, but are you really so alone? Even if you don't want to use those cards, Gabriel can't take her eyes off of you, Nel is as close as she could be, Yasaka has accepted you into her own home, and I'm here graciously trying to pull your head out of your ass. Life could be worse."

Meeting her piercing gaze, much of the fire that fueled Ichigo's fight began to fade. He knew she wasn't trying to agitate him, and that she was trying to help. Her motive wasn't really in question.

It was just the _idea,_ the thought that incessantly played through his mind, that someone he loved could have their lives turned upside down just for him through one little card—

Not to mention the fact that the idea was so appealing, so _tempting_ , that he had half a mind to find his friends now.

It was too much. It angered him far more than was reasonable, a fact that—in and of itself—pissed him off even further.

"I know."

Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair.

"Okay, so I didn't mean to snap like that, but you being right all of the time is getting kind of annoying. I also know that—"

"Grrrr!"

Turning, both Ichigo and Yoruichi watched as Nel hopped up and down, her hands trying vigorously to pull at the opposite end of a card that was pinched tightly between her teeth.

Before the thought of how adorable her loyalty to helping him could fully cross his mind, the card began to glow a brilliant sapphire. He could feel a sharp rise of spiritual pressure building within him, almost as if in response to the card.

"Nel _, no!"_

Whatever caused that glow could not be good. He felt something growing, some aura pulling at him from the card. Nel paused, turning to look at him worriedly.

 _POOF!_

A flash of blue and gold nearly blinded them all, and a cloud of pink smoke erupted in the room, filling the entire space.

Coughing as it tried to enter his lungs, Ichigo waved his hands to clear the air before him to try and see something, anything.

"Nel?"

"Nel?!"

The smoke quickly cleared, revealing a fully grown Nel laying on her side, unmoving. Aside from the torn clothing and tumbling teal hair, multiple pairs of brilliant, white-feathered wings stretched outward from her back, their color contrasting sharply with the dark stain of the flooring.

"Nel!" Ichigo shouted, racing across the room to kneel and take her into his lap.

Getting no response, Ichigo brushed strands of hair from her face, continuously shaking her gently and calling her name.

This couldn't be happening, it simply couldn't! The wings, the form, it could only mean that she was reincarnated.

Growling in barely restrained fury, Ichigo turned and met an understanding glance from Yoruichi.

It seemed that she knew that her prior statement was all too true…

Things certainly _could_ get worse.

 **XXXXXX**

An hour later, Ichigo stalked the hallways of Yasaka's palace, angrily muttering to himself.

It was ridiculous! First, Nel—innocent, naive Nel—bit into and absorbed what turned out to be the most powerful card in his deck. Then, Yoruichi had shouted at him to stop being such a drama-queen, and Gabriel had all but kicked him out, urging him to calm himself while she tended to the newly transformed Nel.

 _How am I supposed to calm down when she's been reincarnated as an Angel? As a servant in my deck! She's been dragged from one world of unending struggle to another. And all because I threw those damned cards across the room?!_

Gritting his teeth, he froze in shock as he felt many of his wings burst forth from his back, loudly shredding his shirt.

"Shiiiit," he groaned, stretching the word as his head tilted backward.

Great, so his powers fluctuated with his emotions. Another addition to the repertoire of annoyances piling up within his mind.

 _And another damn shirt ruined, ugh,_ he grumbled within his mind, noting the cool breeze floating through the tatters of his clothes.

Ichigo was furious, frustrated, and agitated as he marched onward. Both hearing and feeling his wings brushing the walls on either side, he knew that they were just another example of him not controlling himself.

How could he do this to Nel? He had promised himself that he would never—

 ** _"A foolish promise, predicated upon bullheadedness and naïveté."_**

Samael's voice was calm, a soft timbre that only served to agitate Ichigo further.

 _Shut up! No one asked you!_ ****

 ** _"Nor is anyone required to, child. Your perceptions of my nature blind you to the basic truth of my words."_**

 _My perceptions aren't the problem, asshole. They're based off of the facts that you took my body over and attacked Heaven, almost killed Gabriel, and proclaim_ your _self to be hatred_ it _self. Not only that, but you've turned my hatred into some kind of weapon. I can feel the pull, the strain of it._ That's _why I have a hard time listening to anything you say._

 ** _"So my words contain no value? Because I am the hatred of God, I have no truth within me? Have you realized that I have not deceived you since leaving Cocytus, and even then, that I spoke no lie?"_**

 _What possible reason could you give for me to believe you? Seriously. You have done nothing to earn even the smallest bit of my trust, in fact you've actively tried to destroy it! Yet now you want to tell me that I'm wrong in being pissed about Nel? Screw you._

A soft, exasperated sigh whispered within Ichigo's mind. He could feel Samael's annoyance with his stubbornness, giving him a twisted sense of pleasure. The creature _deserved_ to feel as pissed as he did.

Misery loving company was quite the appropriate adage.

 ** _"Child, you are aware of our situation, no? We are bound together for eternity. With my power, your own power, and the mysteries of this Hogyoku, mortality is something that you will not easily face. Our bindings are strong, this last episode tying us together more deeply than either of us truly know."_**

 _And whose fault is that?_

 ** _"Hold your tongue, boy!"_** Samael snarled, his patient tone slipping. Clearly struggling to keep his composure, he took a calming breath.

 ** _"My being an embodiment of hatred does not fully eliminate my reason, nor my practicality. As I have told you before, my survival and my existence are now dependent upon you. Bound as a cursed Sacred Gear I might be, yet I refuse to be fettered to a fool that is blind to the workings of the supernatural. The world you lived in before falling into the Underworld is no longer your world. You are now more of a target than you've ever been. An asset to some, a liability to others, and a challenge to others still, you can no longer afford to blind yourself to the nuances of your new life."_**

Ichigo paused, stunned at the uncharacteristic—rationality—of his soul's newest acquisition. Though he knew Samael made some insightful points, he was still feeling less than willing to concede his agreement.

 _What makes you say that my promise concerning Nel was foolish?_

 ** _"Because it is impossible to keep such an oath in this world. She chose to follow you into a life more dangerous than her previous one, and you allowed her to. Her very proximity to you places her in_** **_grave danger. Given her choice—as well as your acceptance—would you truly deny her the chance to protect herself?"_**

 _Why are you trying to make this ok? What are you trying to pull?_

 ** _"You were not the only one affected by our binding. I find myself feeling quite…possessive…of the child."_**

Ichigo's steps faltered, his arm reaching out to brace himself on a nearby wall to prevent him from falling.

 _What did you just say?_

Moments passed, yet nothing more came from Samael.

Ichigo's lip curled in frustrated annoyance. Turning his attention, he noticed an alcove, leading to a small terrace. He quickly stomped over to it, gripping the wide, ornate railing that served as a guard.

So what, the Angel of Death was now possessive?! He was supposed to trust the incarnation of God's hatred just because it was practical and he felt 'possessive' of Nel?

"What a crock of shit," he muttered, running a hand through his hair as he breathed in the evening air.

Calming himself, he studied the beautiful, timeless edifice of the Yokai portion of Kyoto. He knew that it wouldn't do for him to lose his head now. Nel needed him to keep it together, and he had to keep his head straight for her.

 _I can do this._

And yes. Maybe— _maybe_ — he was overreacting to what was occurring around him.

 _Maybe._

Sighing in annoyance, he felt his wings shudder. 

"You _do_ have wings!" an excited, high-pitched voice whispered, accompanied by the soft shuffling of wood sliding across stone.

Quickly looking over his shoulder, Ichigo could see nothing, only the opening he had come through. Turning and watching for a moment, his brow raised as a golden, pointed ear as well as a bright golden eye peeked around the frame of the door.

"Eep!"

Though the ear and eye disappeared just as suddenly as they had appeared, the soft shuffling noises continued. Raising a brow, Ichigo huffed in amusement. Strange as it was, this was a welcome distraction, a break from the insufferable nonsense that had been his day.

Hearing the shuffling persist, he knew that whomever it was that was watching him, they were clearly not an adult.

 _What children would be here, of all places?_

"You don't have to hide, you know. I don't bite."

Slowly, the original ear and eye peeked back around the edge of the doorway, eventually accompanied by their respective twins.

The child, a young girl, was dressed in the attire of a shrine maiden. A white hoari, adorned with crimson pentacles floated atop hakama that matched the color of the stars. Tall geta completed the adorable ensemble of the Kyuubi before him. A Kyuubi just like…

Just like Yasaka?!

 _No way. This must be…_

"W-Who are you?" the child asked, her voice nervous, yet filled with wonder.

Bending down slightly, a small smile crossed Ichigo's lips. This little girl was such a darling sight, her long golden locks atop her head and her— _one, two three…nine_ —fluffy tails, and her wide, excited golden eyes—

"My name is Ichigo. Ichigo Kurosaki."

Her eyes widening, Ichigo watched as realization dawned in her mind. Clearly, she had heard of him.

 _Uh oh._

 _"You're_ the one Okaa-sama spoke of! Are you really staying with us? Do you really eat dragons? Did you really meet Amaterasu-sama? Did you really come here with an angel and Yoruichi-obasan? What about your wings?! They're angel wings…but grey…"

"Woah woah, there! That's _really_ quite a few questions, huh?" Grinning at her excitement, Ichigo knelt down to face the young kyuubi.

"I'll answer your questions, but could you tell me your name, first?"

"Kunou! My name is Kunou, daughter of Yasaka of the Kyuubi Clan!"

"Kunou? Well, Kunou-hime, I'm honored to meet the lovely princess of Kyoto."

"Kyah!" she cried, her cheeks flushing cutely as she struggled to meet his eye. After a moment, she gave a well-practiced bow, replying, "W-Well met, Ichigo Kurosaki."

He chuckled, his cares momentarily forgotten as he smiled warmly at the young yokai. Taking a deep breath, he readied an answer for her many questions.

"Well, Kunou, I have never eaten a dragon—I don't think they'd be very tasty. I did meet with Amaterasu—that is one interesting woman— and I really did come here with an angel and Yoruichi. As for my wings…um, well…"

How could he explain everything that had been a part of making his wings as they were? How could he make a child aware and understanding of the complexities and aggravations that now plagued his life and determined his standing?

"They're pretty! Can you fly?"

 _Thank whatever's out there for a child's attention span._

"I haven't tried it just yet, but I think so. I've only—"

"Kunou? _Kunou?!"_

Interrupting his answer, a worried voice echoed throughout the hallway that their balcony adjoined.

"I am here, Okaa-sama!" the young girl called in response, her curious grin still beaming at Ichigo.

"Okaa-sama said that you had dragon wings, too! Can I see them?!" Kunou questioned, returning her full attention to Ichigo and ignoring the increasingly louder wooden _clack_ 's that rang out with every step. Yet before she could receive her answer, her mother arrived.

"Kunou! It is rude to ask someone to see—" Yasaka called, coming into view and stopping with a sharp gasp. Grabbing her daughter's shoulders, the Kyuubi leader quickly drew her back to her, holding the child tightly to her front.

"Okaa-samaaaaa!" Kunou whined, struggling to get free, only to be shuffled around to her mother's side.

Looking to the woman's face, Ichigo sighed softly, his head falling forward. The woman's eyes were wide and her tails swished feverishly behind her, fear and anger pouring from her gaze and protective stance.

Glancing often at his outstretched wings, her eyes flickered between them, his hands, his face… She was afraid.

 _Of me. Afraid that I would…that I would harm her child._

The thought burned.

He could understand it, hell, he'd almost encourage it, given what he'd done earlier. But children? He'd never hurt a child! Their innocence and wonder were wonderful, small lights of hope in the crapholes that his life often found.

"I am sorry if my daughter has offended you, Ichigo Kurosaki. She is but a curious child," Yasaka strained, smoothing her clothes and subtly shifting herself in front of Kunou as her ingrained manners took over.

His shoulders falling slightly, Ichigo ran a hand through his hair. With a resigned sigh, he replied, "No offense, at all. Kunou's been very kind to me. You've raised a great kid."

Ichigo's brow raised slightly as his gaze came back to the yokai leader. Her hand brushing long strands of gold from her stunning face, he was surprised to hear a short huff of air.

"Kunou, it is time for bed," she said quietly, her voice falling slightly, a slight flush on her cheeks.

"But Okaa-sama, he was going to tell me about flying, and how he came here with an angel and Yoruichi-obasan, and how his feathers are grey, and I was going to ask him more about eating dragons, and—"

With no further words spoken, Yasaka turned a stern eye upon her daughter. After a brief battle of wills, a gilded brow raised sharply atop the mother's brow.

Kunou's ears quickly flattened atop her head, and she unhappily turned to Ichigo. Bowing politely, she muttered, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Kurosaki-san."

The Kyuubi leader looked somewhat pleased at her departing daughter's sense of decorum, at least until the girl peeked back around the doorway and chirped, "And thank you for showing me your wings!"

 _"Kunou!"_

Fading giggles and clacking wood were all that could be heard as the young princess disappeared down the hallway.

Turning back to see Yasaka's fingertips pinching the bridge of her nose, Ichigo chuckled to himself, rolling his eyes. A playful fox yokai, who'd have thought?

However, an awkward tension soon fell upon the balcony and its occupants, with Kyuubi and… spiritual amalgam…struggling to do more than stare at the floor.

Ichigo stood for a moment, curious as to why Yasaka had yet to leave the small space. Yet, the uncomfortable atmosphere soon became too much. Clearing his throat, he finally broke the silence.

"Sorry that I scared you. I don't know if it helps—and I don't care what's happened to me—but I'd never hurt a child, especially one as sweet as her. I have siblings of my own, and I know what it's like to feel protective. Again, uh… yeah…"

Not knowing what else to say, he shuffled awkwardly towards the doorway, his wings still extended.

 _Gotta figure out how to put these things up._

Before he could leave, a slender hand quickly, but gently, grabbed his arm. Looking back, he noticed a more pronounced flush of embarrassment on Yasaka's face.

"Ichigo, I—"

Pausing mid-sentence, the Kyuubi took a deep breath and exhaled sharply.

"I apologize for my behavior, Ichigo Kurosaki. It was unfair of me to judge you thusly."

Faltering at the sudden switch to formality, Ichigo stammered, "Oh, uh—no problem, I guess… I mean, I suppose. I— ah damn it, I'm no good at this formal stuff!"

As he spoke, he threw his hands up in exasperation, twitching his back and causing his wings to flap erratically—accidentally bombarding Yasaka with large gusts of wind.

Frantically trying to gain control of her chaotically shifting hair, the Kyuubi grumbled, "I can see that!"

"Crap! Sorry!" Ichigo groaned, stepping back to the railing and glaring at the offending appendages.

"I can't figure these damn things out. They're always popping out or flapping at the most random times."

Incredulous. That would be the way he would describe the look that came across her face. Staring wide-eyed at each other for a matter of moments, it was she who broke the glance as humor filled her eyes.

Relaxing slightly, the golden haired woman smirked and chuckled. With a small grin, she gently flipped a strand of hair behind her shoulder and sighed.

"One must learn to control oneself, Ichigo. It's not proper, losing yourself around a lovely woman."

 _Wait… What the hell?_

It was painfully obvious she was trying to break the tension, and it seemed that her sense of humor matched his mentor's all too well.

Wonderful.

 _Ah, screw it._

"Ugh," Ichigo groaned, rolling his eyes . "No wonder you and Yoruichi are so friendly. You're both pervs."

A scandalized look crossed Yasaka's face, though humor still played on her lips. Coming forward to stand by the railings as well, she smirked at him.

"Touche."

At a loss, Ichigo stood rubbing the back of his head. What more could he say? Sure, they had made a joke, but the tension from her—episode—still lingered heavily over them.

"So…uh… Thanks for letting me stay here for a while. I am going to go check on Nel."

"She's fine. Gabriel informed me before I sought to find Kunou. You're not great at conversation, are you?"

Before the indignant Ichigo could speak, Yasaka waved her hands, summoning a recognizable bottle and a pair of saucers. Setting the pair upon the wide-topped barrier, she poured a generous portion within each and passed one to him.

"Hey, just because you—"

"Drink."

"I don't need a—"

 _"Drink,"_ she urged, a kind expression on her face, yet steel in her voice.

Huffing loudly at being interrupted, Ichigo was about to argue when she gently lifted the saucer to him.

"It is sake, Ichigo, nothing sinister. You and I have now met twice under rather stressful circumstances, and I daresay that your last week has been less than relaxing. I believe I can safely say that we could both do with a little unwinding."

Caught short, he found that he could make no sound counterargument. Though still a teen, his life had been more than trying lately, and the stress only seemed to compound itself. He couldn't deny that he was wound tight…too tight.

Maybe a drink would help?

Accepting the sake, he quickly drank it all, coughing loudly as it burned a hot, scratchy trail down his throat.

Musical laughter pierced his loud hacking, and with watery eyes he turned to face the again-smiling Kyuubi.

 _She looks even more mischievous than Yoruichi._

She patted him on the back, still giggling lightly to herself. "Oh Ichigo, was this your first drink?"

"I'm sixteen, what do you think?" he rasped, focusing on returning his voice back to normal.

Seeing Yasaka wince slightly, he had no time to think as she smiled ruefully and whispered, "Do you truly believe that you are still a teenager?"

Ichigo frowned. He wanted so badly to ask her what she meant. He wanted to demand that she clarify, to ask why she would make such a ridiculous claim.

He knew that he couldn't. Ichigo Kurosaki wasn't a teen. He didn't exactly know what he _was_ , but it certainly wasn't a sixteen year old boy. Not anymore. That…kind of sucked.

 _Damn it._

"Another drink?" she asked, only to receive an outstretched saucer as an answer.

Sighing loudly, the Yokai monarch leaned against the guard, visibly relaxing. Matching her posture, Ichigo downed his second serving, this time coughing slightly less.

"I am sorry, you know."

Raising a brow, he muttered, "I know. It's fine. I've gotten a lotta looks in my life, few of them friendly."

"Ah, but when you come to a balustrade where your young daughter is talking to the partially unveiled Angel of Death—who only hours ago nearly destroyed my palace—it is not exactly an easy situation to respond to."

"And here I thought it was just my hair color."

Yasaka paused at the sarcastic jab. Could it be? The alcohol seemed to be working, as the perpetual scowl that marred Ichigo's face had transformed into a slight smirk.

"I cannot express how glad I am that Yoruichi taught you. I hate having to always deal with nobility and dignitaries. You are quite a relief, given my usual company."

"I get it. Nobles are pains in the ass. Usually. You're not too bad, so far."

"So far? Why Ichigo, I think you may have stumbled your way through a compliment."

He looked at her own smirk, and laughed. How ridiculous was his life? Meeting goddesses, laughing, drinking, and smarting off with royalty?

 _Life's never dull._ ****

"Ichigo?"

"Hm?" he hummed, a content expression gracing his face as he looked to the night sky.

"I have heard much of you throughout your life. Reports from staff, word from Amaterasu, even stories from Yoruichi. If it is alright with you, I would very much like to hear of your life from your own perspective."

Turning a curious gaze, Ichigo watched Yasaka for a moment. Her gaze was kind, seemingly authentic in her curiosity. Snorting softly in amusement, he agreed.

"Okay. Life really got interesting a little over a year ago."

 **XXXXXX**

Yasaka watched with slightly lidded eyes as Ichigo stumbled through the doorway of the balcony.

Chuckling to herself as he mumbled in offense at the archway's pillar that had so rudely 'jumped into his path', she couldn't contain the smile that crossed her lips. While not absolutely drunk, the pleasant effects of the alcohol they had consumed naturally held far firmer sway with him.

 _How cute._

Brushing a loose tendril of her flaxen hair behind her ear, Yasaka turned back to Kyoto's secret night sky.

So _that_ was Ichigo Kurosaki, unassuming, unguarded.

 _Not exactly what I was expecting, but that's not necessarily a bad thing._

The boy was nice, clearly a product of his father. It had been some time since she had spoken with the energetic Isshin Shiba—Kurosaki, yet the boisterous shinigami made an impression that was unlikely to fade.

Though, his son—while clearly his father's child—was something different. While the elder Kurosaki had been nearly overwhelming, a beacon of silliness and life, Ichigo had been quite another being altogether.

There was life in his eyes, a hunger for…something… Yet, Ichigo's eyes held a weight, a sadness that was far too old for someone his age. Sure, he had a moment or two of melodrama, but Yasaka knew too well what it was she saw within the mahogany depths of his eyes—experience.

Experience of life, of war, of years not all known by him alone. Experience of responsibility.

 _Poor boy._

Well, no…'poor boy' wasn't quite accurate. Yes, his life had accrued more than his fair share of misfortune, yes he had experienced pain. But the person she had just spoken with for the last— _oh my_ —several hours was something more than 'unfortunate'.

There was clearly a maelstrom of chaos churning within his soul, yet what he showed was an inherent humanity. Care for his friends and loved ones, concern over his young arrancar charge and the seraph watching over her, even humor when describing Yoruichi's teachings.

Conversing with him had been a thoroughly pleasant experience. He had shown that he was rather intelligent, as well as slightly boorish, but never directly disrespectful to her or her position. Ichigo Kurosaki was simply not a well-mannered noble.

It was one of the things she found that she liked most about him.

Perhaps this would not be as terrible a thing as she had feared. Perhaps Ichigo Kurosaki could be an asset, a productive addition to the Yokai society of Kyoto—at least while present. He was certainly pleasant company, and undeniably charming within his own right.

 _Not to mention, unquestionably handsome,_ she thought playfully, smirking in the moonlight at the notion.

 _Why not?_ , she asked herself, scoffing and crossing her arms as she leaned forward onto the veranda railing. She had perfectly working eyes, and just slightly less apprehension at the moment. No harm ever came from noticing a good looking young man.

A good looking young man who was incredibly innocent, astronomically powerful, not to mention quite good with children.

 _The moon is bright tonight_ , she noticed offhandedly as she glanced upward.

… _Unnaturally bright._

Squinting at the near glare, Yasaka frowned. She was no fool. Having lived under the directives of the Shinto pantheon for centuries, she had learned of their moods—glimpses of their personalities, as it were.

Tsukuyomi was being rather smug tonight, it seemed. The least aggressive of the siblings, the moon god dealt more through allusion and innuendo, giving knowing signs and subtle remarks that were often far more frustrating than was tolerable.

Given that she had just unknowingly passed the night away chatting with her newest charge, the Kyuubi was under no illusions as to Tsukuyomi's implications.

Rolling her eyes at the glowing satellite, she huffed and turned away, leaning her back against the rail.

"Feeling like a good howl at the moon?" a wry voice hummed.

Immediately recognizing the voice, Yasaka glanced to her right, noticing Yoruichi sitting on the railing with her legs crossed, clearly relaxed as she rested against the connected doorframe. A saucer and bottle of Yoruichi's own beside her, the infamous flash goddess was watching her closely.

"You're as funny as ever, Yoruichi. Lord Tsukuyomi seems to share your humor."

"They can be pretty smug when they're onto something, can't they?"

Raising a brow at the quiet tone Yoruichi was using, Yasaka frowned. This brief conversation was teetering on the edge of something she wasn't in the mood to think on.

Better to steer the topic of discussion to more reasonable things.

"I have already apologized for my earlier assumptions to Ichigo. I admitted to being unfair, but having his wings out around Kunou was pretty hard to take with a reasonable mind."

Mirroring the expression, Yoruichi replied, "I know. I've been watching over him since he left the throne room. Not that he would have ever done anything, but I'd have made sure Kunou was safe."

"Ninjas", Yasaka scoffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. Giving a small nod in her friend's direction, she grumbled, "Thank you."

Yoruichi smirked, chuckling at the sour tone her friend used. Taking another sip, she kept her eyes locked onto those of the yokai ruler.

"Kunou is dear to me, you know that. We've been friends for so long now, I think of her as a niece—"

A gentle smile crossed the Kyuubi's lips. Yoruichi really was good with Kunou. Her daughter loved her 'Yoruichi-obasan' dearly, looking up to the the violet haired woman.

 _A good role model, I'll admit… Well, never to her face._

"—and Ichigo as all but family."

 _And now we're back to this._

Looking closely, Yasaka watched as Yoruichi glanced up at the moon, gently brushing strands of her violet hair aside.

"The moon really is bright tonight, huh?"

With a noncommittal hum, she turned herself back to the mocking moon, it's pale beams washing over her.

"He means a lot to me, Yasaka. He means a lot to more people than he knows."

With a huff, she remained facing outward and replied, "I apologized already, Yoruichi. That should be the end of it."

"Tsukuyomi-sama seems to think differently."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Ichigo is special," Yoruichi answered calmly, taking another small sip. "He has a strange effect on people. His personality, his will draw others to him. It doesn't matter the race, the gender, the living or dying. He inspires loyalty, courage, love…"

 _Alright, this is getting ridiculous,_ Yasaka thought with a chuckle.

She knew where this was going. She was going to make Yoruichi spell it out, if for nothing else but to make her friend hear the nonsense she was saying.

Yes, the time had gotten away from her tonight. Yes, she had very much enjoyed getting to know more of the enigmatic young man who had all but literally been dropped into her lap. Yes, she saw him as an appealing specimen of his gender.

In what _possible_ way did that imply anything more?

She just met the boy, for goodness sake! Not to mention the fact that she was a priestess for Amaterasu, or her observation of the near constant looks that Gabriel had been giving her newest subject.

"Yoruichi Shihoin, are you seriously attempting to imply that I am falling in love with the young man I met for the first time today? That I, a priestess of Amaterasu, am searching for a potential suitor? Particularly one with a great Seraph that has stained a feather just for him?"

"Not at all," Yoruichi responded nonchalantly, hopping down gracefully from her perch. Striding up to the amused Kyuubi, Yoruichi stopped just before her.

"Then what is it that you're trying to say? Plainly, if you please."

Placing a gentle hand on Yasaka's shoulder, Yoruichi murmured, "I told you, I've been watching Ichigo since he left the throne room. I am saying nothing more than the fact that he touches the hearts of all he meets. Even those without hearts cannot be immune to him. You've seen that Kunou has taken a liking to him already. You're going to be seeing a lot more of him yourself…so be ready."

"Ready?! Yoruichi, don't be ridiculous!"

"I'm not trying to get you riled up, just please, remember what I said," she replied, turning and leaving the veranda. Pausing at the doorway, she looked over her shoulder.

"And also remember that if you hurt him, I'll tear off one of those tails and wear it as a scarf."

With a smirk and a wink, the flash goddess disappeared around the corner of the door.

Chuckling to herself, Yasaka shook her head. The ideas people conceived! She truly considered Yoruichi to be akin to a sister, but the thought that she would not only fall for—but be _allowed_ —to fall for any man was laughable.

Amaterasu kept her priestesses pure, allowing the touch of a man only when providing an heir to the yokai throne.

Shaking her head again, she knew that even _if_ that weren't the case and _if_ she were actually interested in a young man merely a fraction of her age, the fabled 'Most Beautiful Woman in Heaven' already seemed to have an eye for the young Kurosaki.

 _What a scandal_ that _could create! She's already blemished one of her feathers over him, Heaven could not afford the loss of one such as her._

Maybe there was something to Ichigo's nature, his ability to draw others together.

 _Maybe…for others, at least._

 **XXXXXX**

The following morning, Ichigo groaned as he stumbled down the ornate hallways of Yasaka's palace.

Walking past an open doorway, he growled angrily at the searing sunlight that burned through the window and door.

 _So, I guess this is a hangover? Not as bad as I'd expected, but not exactly what I'd call 'something to look forward to'._

His head throbbed, his mouth was dry, and _damn_ did direct sunlight hurt his eyes.

Shaking his head, he continued making his way back to his room. It was still early, but nature's call had been incredibly strong this morning, waking him rather abruptly. Now that he had satisfied his body's needs, he wanted to check on Nel.

He hadn't seen her since Gabriel had pushed him out of her room yesterday, and he was worried. Striding as quickly as he could down the hallway, he soon made it back to his room. Approaching the slightly ajar door, he heard a voice excitedly chatting.

"… and then he caught Grimmjow's arm, refusing to allow him to fall like that! He's such a good man, and I—"

The voice cut off suddenly as he opened the door, only to be replaced by a loud cry of _"Ichigo!"_

 _CRASH_

The door was suddenly in splinters beneath him, the shards trying in vain to poke and prod his skin. He was unable to move as a large, teal blur was hugging him tightly, repeating his name over and over.

 _My head…_

"Nel—" he croaked, straining for air. He couldn't deny the relief flowing through him at her antics, regardless of how it diminished his air supply.

 _She's okay. She's okay!_

Finding himself pulled to his feet, he smiled as the full formed Nel grabbed his hands and jumped, exclaiming, "Ichigo! I am an angel like you! I can protect you and we can be friends forever now!"

Caught in her excitement, he smiled back. "I am glad to see you smiling and well, Nel. Though, I am sorry that—mmph!"

"Gabriel said you would try to take the blame for this," Nel huffed with a fond roll of her eyes and a kind smile as she placed her hand over Ichigo's mouth.

"I'll say this once, so you had better hear me now: _Thank you."_

"Wha—" was all that Ichigo could get out before her hand found its way back to his mouth.

"No, Ichigo, no apologies, no guilt. Don't you understand?! I can stand with you now, as your friend forever! I am the queen of your deck, and I could not be happier. You've changed so much in my life, and I will _not_ allow you to spoil my re-birthday with your misplaced guilt!"

Ichigo stood in stunned silence.

 _Damn._

Chuckling once, Ichigo shook his head fondly. "You got it, Nel."

The answering smile was blinding, and she hugged him tightly again.

"Did he blame himself?" an amused voice called out from behind him.

"Of course, or at least he tried. That's Ichigo, for you."

Turning to see the smiling Gabriel, Ichigo huffed, "I'm not that predictable, am I?"

Giggles and kindly pitying looks were his only responses, eliciting another huff from him.

"Worry not, Ichigo," Gabriel cooed, patting his cheek fondly. "It only serves to make you that much more endearing."

Fighting the blush that threatened to stain his cheeks, Ichigo stammered slightly before remembering something that Nel said.

"Wait, you said your re-birthday, Nel. Is that because you're technically an angel now?"

Smiling widely, Nel shook her head.

"Not completely. There's something you should see."

Raising her hands to her mask, she gently pulled on the hardened bone. Ichigo frowned, wondering why she was showing him her hollow h—

 _What?!_

"I no longer have a hollow hole, Ichigo. You've made me whole again."

 **XXXXXX**

The morning air smelled sweet as Vali strode along a deserted sidewalk.

 _Actually, it smells like shit,_ he thought, his nose wrinkling at the stench of Tokyo's back streets.

Still, his mood was impossible to sway. It was a fine day, after all.

Shoving his hands further into his pockets, the current Hakuryuuku felt like whistling. The day had actually started off as it had many times before, dull. Azazel nowhere to be found, nothing planned for the day, and a strict 'Don't be a bad dragon' order.

 _And then it all came together. Oh, how it came together!_

He had arrived back at Azazel's apartment around nine that morning. That in itself was nothing special. Vali was a devil, and the night was his natural time to prowl.

Yet another common find in Azazel's luxurious apartment was present this morning.

Vali was used to seeing Azazel passed out drunk on the couch of his apartment, surrounded by either a gaggle of naked women, or that old fart Odin. This time, it was both men, as well as a couple of random guys, but from the looks of things there was nothing to be excited about.

Sure, they clearly had to have some kind of connection to the supernatural world, but if they were passed out and drooling as they were, he just couldn't see the potential for excitement.

Still, with what had happened so recently, the men were of possible note.

 _'Of note' was right,_ he thought, remembering the morning clearly.

…

Seeing the unconscious group and sensing an opportunity, Vali quietly moved about the room, checking the pockets of the men strewn about the floor. The results had grown more and more interesting.

The blonde man, Vito Corleone of New York City by his ID—Vali rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness—had wads of cash in his pants pockets and multiple gadgets within his jacket.

Raising a brow, he carefully placed each back where they belonged. Interesting? Sure, but nothing of interest for him.

The dark haired man with the goatee, however, had been a goldmine of information.

Dr. Isshin Kurosaki of Karakura Town. His pockets also containing crumpled wads of cash, there was a small device in his pocket that looked like a newer mobile phone.

This couldn't be a coincidence. Azazel disappears after searching for the source of a massive energy spike, only to reappear passed out drunk with a man that just happened to bear the same name as the potential source of that spike?

Not a chance.

Perhaps this was his opportunity to find information about the Kurosaki he had heard about in his investigations.

Flipping the device open, Vali noticed an alert of a missed message. Swiping across on the screen, his lips shifted into an excited grin.

 _Received at 18:23_

 _From: Hellcat_

 _To: The Handsomest of Kurosaki's_

 _Arrived safely in Kyoto. Meeting with Yasaka in an hour. Ichigo stressed, but ok._

This was it! It had to be. Vali felt the rightness in his gut, a strong compulsion, an instinctual approval of what he was seeing. The Hakuryuuku was back on the hunt, and now his focus had a name.

Ichigo Kurosaki.

Putting the device to sleep, he slipped it gently back into Isshin's pocket. Patting the old man's unconscious head, he whispered, "Thanks, old man. You saved me a lot of time, and a lot of searching. I think it's high time that this Ichigo and I meet."

Standing silently, Vali slowly made his way out of the room, slipping silently out of the front door.

….

Finally making his way to the outskirts of town, Vali pushed thoughts of his investigative prowess aside. Quickly judging that he was alone, he activated a magic circle beneath his feet.

 _Kyoto, here I come._


End file.
